Sailor Moon 4200
by Angus MacSpon
Summary: Centuries after the Fall…a new band of senshi must come together. Some of them are new faces. Others are old friends, reborn yet again. But all of them are in trouble—because the enemy that destroyed Crystal Tokyo is out there, waiting for them…
1. Prelude

**P R E L U D E**

The cycle turns: faces come and go; people are born and die; ideologies and artistic movements come in and out of fashion; cities are founded and grow old on the ruins of their predecessors…civilisations rise and fall. The cycle turns. 

Sometimes the turning is slow and leisurely. Rome's empire lasted a thousand years; others did even better. Once there was a civilisation that spanned planets, and was ruled from the Moon; that lasted a very long time. But the cycle always turned. 

Sometimes, it turns more quickly than anyone expects. 

**722 YEARS AFTER THE FALL**

The full moon rode high in the sky over the greatest city in the world. It was a perfect, cloudless night; the air was pure and still, the stars brilliant; and the moonlight reflected off a thousand thousand rooftops: off towers and spires, minarets and radio masts, tall glass-faced buildings and low, sprawling apartment centres; and, deep in the heart of the city, in the centre of a broad area of darkness, off a great, glittering dome that seemed to catch the moonlight and cast it back, like a giant, glowing eye. 

It was after midnight, but parts of the city still bustled. The central district was as busy as ever; but then some things never change. The streets were filled with light and sound, with moving vehicles humming past—and always, everywhere, with people, their faces strange under the pale blue glow of the street-lights. 

From a pool of shadow, two pairs of eyes watched the traffic intently. It was not heavy, but it was moving at a steady pace, and there were few gaps. The faint, electric hum of the motors was deceptively quiet, and most of the cars were painted a deep blue that seemed almost black in this light. 

At last, the owner of one of the pairs of eyes thought it saw a chance. A tiny figure leaped out of cover, streaked across the road—having to dodge between two cars in the middle of the street—and vanished into an alleyway on the other side. 

The other traffic-watcher sighed. A few seconds later, inevitably, a much better opportunity came along, and the second watcher followed the first. 

It was very dark in the alley, but the two figures could see well enough. The first of them was a small tabby cat. It had an odd marking on its forehead: a simple white circle. The second was a larger cat, pure white. It had a mark, too: a golden crescent. 

The white cat said, "I don't think they saw us." Its voice was male, and sounded rather tired. 

The tabby said, "What's it matter anyway? They're not gonna pay any attention to a pair of cats." It was female, and quite young. 

"They might, thanks to you," the white accused. 

"Geez, you gonna bring that up forever? One little mistake!" 

The white cat stared at his companion indignantly. "You spoke to a human! And not just any old human, one of the Serenity Council!" 

"He was offering me a fish! Anyway, how was I supposed to know he was a Serry?" 

"The uniform should have been a big hint," snorted the white. He cocked an ear suddenly. There was a faint humming sound coming from somewhere. 

"It was dark!" the tabby complained. "Anyway, what about that time when you—" 

"Shh! Quiet!" 

The humming sound was louder now: a deep, bass drone. It had been building for some time, but so gradually that neither had noticed until almost too late. A faint breeze stirred the dust in the alley. Then, suddenly, it appeared: a huge, dark bulk, drifting slowly overhead. As it crossed the alley, the humming was magnified tenfold. The machine—for it was a machine, clearly mechanical—was marked here and there with words and logos, but they were almost invisible, drowned out by the banks of spotlights mounted in the machine's base, lighting up the alley for a few seconds as they passed. 

The tabby cat froze in place as the light caught her, looking terrified. The white cat nosed through some rubbish, as if perfectly unconcerned. Then the floater moved on; the sound shrank to a faint hum and was gone, and the cats relaxed again. 

The white cat abandoned the rubbish he had been examining with such interest and said, "Still think I'm being paranoid?" 

"It was just a coincidence," said the tabby. She didn't sound too sure of herself, though. "You see Opals on patrol every night." 

"All the more reason to play it safe," argued the white. 

"But—ahh, what the hell." The tabby gave up. After a moment she added, "Y'know, you looked real cute there, playing with that old junk, Artemis." 

The white cat, Artemis, snorted. "Yeah, yeah. At least I acted like a real cat, instead of just freezing up." 

"Actually, I'm pretty sure a real cat _would_ have frozen up," said the tabby innocently. 

"Well, you'd know, wouldn't you, Bendis?" snapped Artemis. 

"I knew it!" shouted Bendis. "I _knew_ it! You _always_ bring that up whenever I'm winning an argument!" 

"I do not!" 

"You do too!" 

"I do not!" 

"You do too!" 

"I do—oh, for heaven's sake. This is ridiculous!" 

"You always say that, too," grumbled Bendis. 

Artemis stared at her for a second. "You know what?" he said in a low, reasonable tone. "Someday soon you're going to be old enough to leave. I've taught you just about everything you need to know to be able to carry on the search on your own. You'll be able to branch out, perform the mission all by yourself. And you know what else?" His voice was starting to rise now. "When that day comes, I will be _very glad_." 

There was a long silence. Then Bendis said, "I _think_ you've only said that one about five or six times." 

Artemis spat. "You're impossible! Just like your—" 

"Oh, no you don't!" Bendis was angry now, really angry. "I'm fed up with being compared to her! You hear me? I don't wanna hear it again!" 

"You show a little respect to your—" 

"No!" Bendis shouted. "I'm fed up with this!" She bounded a few steps away, then looked back. "I've got better things to do than listen to you burbling on about the good old days, do you hear me? I've _had_ it!" 

And suddenly she turned tail and ran off. Artemis stared after her for a few seconds, not believing it; then he spat a curse and gave chase. But she had a good head start; and after all, she was much younger. He stopped after a little, breathing hard. 

"Damn," he muttered. "I'm definitely getting too old for this…" 

* * *

  

The night passed. In the light of a bright, sunny morning, Bendis made her way down a side street. She moved a lot more slowly than she had a few hours before. She looked tired and somewhat bedraggled. 

She was muttering to herself, a bad habit that Artemis had never managed to break her out of. But what did she care? 

"Geez, who'd have thought finding anything to eat would be so hard?" she mumbled. "Maybe the old fart does have his uses, after all." She stopped and began to wash herself. Her fur tasted vile. "Bleah. What a night…" 

Involuntarily, she remembered: Running down the street, outdistancing Artemis easily. Dodging a boot being thrown by a drunken old man. Running away from a powerful, vicious-looking, scar-covered tomcat. Sneaking into a restaurant kitchen and trying to steal some food; then dashing out of the kitchen followed by an angry cook, who threw a bucket of dirty water after her. Trying to sleep on a sheltered rooftop. Finally, at dawn, fighting a seagull for a scrap of something that had looked marginally edible, and getting a good pecking for her efforts. 

"Maybe I should try and find him again," she muttered. "He should have cooled down by now—" 

The sudden sound of voices cut her off. She looked around frantically, spotted a likely-looking hedge, and ducked into it just as five children walked past, chatting with each other. Their school uniforms were dark grey, with gold piping on the trouser legs and sleeves. Bendis watched them go by thoughtfully. 

"Schoolkids. If there's a school near here, I might be able to beg some food…" 

Keeping a safe distance, she followed them. 

* * *

  

Artemis waited for some time in the alley, but Bendis never came back. By mid-morning he decided that she wasn't going to. Still he waited, though, trying to work out what to do next. It was the first time they'd been separated since he started taking care of her, and he was more worried than he cared to admit. Oh, he talked about sending her off on her own, someday soon. But when it came down to it… 

_She might go to the backup contact point,_ he decided at last. _Can't hurt to check, at least._

He set off. The streets were actually emptier by day, and he made rapid progress. Still, it was a long way, and it took more than half an hour to reach his destination. 

It was a three-story stone building, around sixty years old—which made it a very old building, in this city. The name that was carved into the masonry above the main entrance was a single word in the English alphabet: OLYMPUS. 

The bottom floor was devoted to retail shops and a food court; the upper two were a gymnasium and health club. The Olympus did a prosperous business with the keep-fit crowd, especially considering the eccentricities of its owner. It was open twenty-four hours a day, and was usually pretty busy for at least sixteen of those hours. 

Artemis made his way around the side of the building, and (with some difficulty) up the fire escape. There was a window half-open on the third floor. He risked a quick look—nobody was around—and jumped inside. 

He was in the private rooms of the gymnasium's owner. Pappadopoulos Itsuko was half Greek: an unusual combination, even here. She compounded this with a variety of other minor oddities; living in a suite of rooms above her own gymnasium was only one of them. 

_One of these days,_ Artemis thought, _she's going to get caught out. And then there'll be hell to pay._

He heard footsteps, and hastily ducked under a table. A moment later, someone came into the room. Artemis breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Itsuko herself. She was of average height; her hair, cut very short, was a pure, dazzling white, but her face was startlingly youthful. She was wearing a well-cut business suit that made the most of her excellent figure. 

Artemis watched her for a few seconds, then walked calmly out from his hiding-place and jumped up on the desk. He and Itsuko stared at each other, motionless, for what seemed like a long time. 

Then Itsuko said calmly, "Artemis. Welcome back." 

"It's been a while, Rei." 

She blinked, then scowled. "I hope I don't have to remind you about my name _again_." 

Artemis sighed. "Oh, come on. You're being paranoid. Do you really think anybody would recognise you, after all this time?" 

"You're standing in a country ruled by a group who call themselves the Serenity Council, and you think nobody would recognise my old name?" 

"Yeah, but Serenity was…different." 

Itsuko made a face. It might have been anger…or regret. "She sure was. But the little kids still play Serenity-and-her-Senshi games. They watch that godawful viddy program. Hell, a couple of years ago I took a look at the history textbooks the schools are using these days. We're all in there. There's even a photo of me." She shuddered. "I've never been so glad I changed my hair." 

Artemis looked interested. "Hey, am I in there? Or—" Itsuko gave him a withering look and he shut up. 

She stared at him for some time. Then: "As you say, it's been a while. What…eighteen months? So how goes your search?" 

"The usual," Artemis said, stifling a sigh. She always asked that. It was one of the reasons he didn't come to see her more often. 

Itsuko shook her head. "I have to admire you. I…gave up hoping, a few hundred years ago. You're the only one left who believes." 

"The cycle will turn, Rei. She promised. The Senshi _will_ be reborn." 

This time she did not comment on the name. "Artemis, they can't be. The cycle is broken. There is no heir to the throne. Princess Usagi died. Serenity died. There's no-one else. No heir to be reborn in this time or any other time. It's…it's just over." 

"I don't believe that," said Artemis flatly. "The Queen died trying to send the souls of her people forward, just as her mother did. She may have succeeded. The princess may be reborn." 

"The princess died right at the beginning of the…the trouble. That was _months_ before Crystal Tokyo fell. Artemis, she's gone." 

"She'll be reborn. I have every confidence. You'll see." But after a moment, Artemis added in a low, painful voice that belied his certainty, "If she isn't…then what's the point in going on? What am I _for_?" 

"The same as me," said Itsuko. She spoke gently, but there was hidden steel in her voice as she continued: "To survive. To remember. And just maybe…to act. To be ready, if it wakes again. We're the last two left, the only two who survived the battle. If the trouble comes again, we may be the only ones who recognise—" 

"Some help we'd be," Artemis muttered. "A cat and an ex-Senshi." 

"I may have lost my powers, but I can still fight. And so can you." 

Artemis snorted. "Sure. Anyway, we're not quite alone. Remember, there's still—" 

"Oh yes, your protege." For the first time, Itsuko smiled. It changed her face. "What was it…Bendis? How is she? When are you going to bring her to meet me?" 

"Well, that's sort of why I came today. I was hoping she'd be here already—" 

* * *

  

Bendis prowled through the school grounds. Her stratagem had worked better than she'd ever dreamed. She was feeling pleasantly stuffed, and it was only mid-morning. 

_I wonder why Artemis never does this? Begging from schoolgirls is so easy! But then, he always tries to be so dignified. Wonder if he was always that way?_

She found a likely-looking spot in the sun and lay down to bask for a little. It really was a lovely day…and the sun was so warm, it was blissful in fact, and she'd just eaten better than she had in weeks…She wasn't going to go to sleep, of course; that would be too cliched. After all, she wasn't an _earth cat_; she was just going to lie here for a while and relax… 

And she woke up, to the feeling of hands stroking her back. Good hands, too, that knew the right way to treat a cat. _This isn't a school,_ she thought blissfully, relaxing into the feeling. _This is heaven._

"Oh, it's purring," said a voice. "Here, let me." 

"There you go," said another. A different set of hands took over. They weren't as skilled, but they were still very good. Bendis rolled over onto her side, her eyes still shut. 

_Oh. Ohhhhh. Don't stop. Hey, don't—! Ohh. Oh, yes. Yessss…_

"Maybe you should adopt it, Nana-chan," said the second voice, amused. 

"I don't think my parents would let me," said the first voice regretfully. "What about you, Iku-chan?" 

"Oh…no," said a third, rather hesitant voice. "I couldn't. Maybe if it were a dog…" 

_A dog?_ Bendis almost said it aloud without thinking. _Why would __anyone_ prefer a dog? 

The first pair of hands took over again. She writhed in delight. "I think it prefers you, Eitoku-kun," said the first voice. It sounded envious; but that was silly. _Why don't __both_ of you take me? I'm yours! Just keep stroking! 

"Hey, a kitten!" said a fourth voice. "Oh, it's so cute! Where did you find it? Can I hold it?" A new set of hands touched her fur— 

And Bendis yowled in shock, leaped up, and ran at top speed for the nearby bushes. She plunged into them without pause and kept on going, running, running from the touch of those hands, that touch that filled her with a sense of—of— 

What? 

She came to a halt as the panic faded. What had it been? It wasn't pain; the hands had been firm but gentle. Surprise? But the _first_ set of hands had been more surprising. No, it had been something else. Something quite unexpected. 

Something…alien. 

_Oh boy._

Artemis had warned her it would be like this, the first time. Her first contact with the power. The touch of another world; the overpowering sense of _difference_. But she hadn't been paying much attention… 

_Nothing new with that,_ some traitorous corner of her mind said; but she paid it no heed. She had more important things to ponder. 

The owner of that fourth pair of hands was touched with power. Part of something greater. Unmistakably. Charged with special powers and abilities, and born to wield them in the service of the Queen and the defence of the realm. 

A Sailor Senshi. 

_Now what do I do?_ she thought wildly. _Artemis never told me what to do if this happened!_ But of course, Artemis wasn't here. She'd have to find him and tell him— 

Tell him what? 

Bendis ran back to the bushes and peeked out. But there was nobody there. The humans had left. Bendis' heart sank. 

One of the girls at this school was a Senshi. But which? 

She was going to have her work cut out for her… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**THE BEGINNING**

**Next:** The Serenity Council is looking for two talking cats. Artemis is looking for Bendis. And Bendis is looking for a Senshi…


	2. Chapter 1: The Searchers

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER ONE  
The Searchers:  
Hunters, Prey and Innocent Bystanders**

Artemis took a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, then scrambled out of the rubbish bin. Some of the trash shifted as he jumped, and he landed in a most undignified manner. Truth to tell, he rather enjoyed it. 

It was funny, but since Bendis had left he'd been feeling a lot more relaxed. He hadn't realised how tied-down he'd felt, having to look after a much younger cat. How much the responsibility had changed him, sobered him. Now that she was gone, he felt positively buoyant. Free. 

_Easy,_ he reminded himself. _The whole reason you're here is to __find_ her again, remember. 

It was almost a pity, though. 

With a sigh, he sat down and began to wash himself. He had checked the emergency rendezvous, the Olympus gymnasium, and spoken with the owner; but Itsuko had seen no sign of Bendis. Here, the alley where the two of them had parted, was the only other place she was likely to go. 

_My fault. I never taught her the list of rendezvous points. Just the emergency contact, in case anything happened to me…_ But of course, there had been no reason to teach her the other points, not yet. He hadn't expected the two of them to part ways for another year or two. 

He looked around the alley glumly. Rubbish bins were all very well for a bit of fun, but it wasn't how he'd want to _live_. 

_I'll wait here for a while. A few days. If she doesn't show up by then, I'll…_

He did not complete the thought. If Bendis didn't show up within a few days, he had no idea _what_ he'd do. 

* * *

  

Kitada Masao was walking into the Olympus when he noticed a new sheet placed prominently on the notice-board. It looked official. With a sinking feeling, he walked over to take a look. _Please, not another membership hike,_ he thought. _It's only been a few months since the last one._

It wasn't a membership hike. To his amusement, it was a "lost" notice about somebody's missing cat. And on management stationery, even. He wondered who'd had the nerve to put it up. Pappadopoulos-san was going to have a fit when she saw it. 

He went on in and spent the next ninety minutes on his daily workout. For some reason, the notice about the cat seemed to keep coming back to him. It was puzzling. He didn't even like cats. 

He showered and changed back to his street clothes. On his way out, he checked the notice again. This time, the oddity registered. 

_…tabby cat…circular scar on its forehead…_

Scar on its forehead? Now where had he seen that before? 

Then, with a sudden shock, he remembered. The regular weekly briefing sheet that he'd received, just yesterday. He'd scanned it, as always, and tossed it out. There'd been nothing there that concerned him, he'd thought. Now it seemed he'd been wrong. 

It was most irregular, but he rushed home instead of returning to work. He'd make up some kind of excuse later. The sheet was still there, in the bin. (He was supposed to have them shredded, or burned, or disposed of in some secure manner, but he never bothered.) 

Cats with odd, regular scars on their heads? What did 'S' Division want with cats? Somebody must have flipped. 

But there it was, in black and white. And a contact code. 

Masao hesitated. Four years ago, signing up as an Irregular agent with 'S' Division had been a joke. Lots of people did it—though they weren't supposed to discuss it, of course. The monthly payment wasn't much, but it was like money for nothing. All he had to do was attend an occasional weekend workshop—most of them were pretty interesting anyway—and of course report it if he ever saw or heard anything that affected national security. How was he supposed to take that seriously? 

He never actually had anything to report, of course. 

Until now. He looked at the poster again glumly. It wasn't a joke any more. 

_Get it over with,_ he told himself. With a sigh, he picked up the commset and called it in. 

* * *

  

Bendis prowled through the grounds, trying to think. Somewhere at this school, there was a Senshi. But she didn't know _who_. She'd heard the girl speak; she'd felt her touch for a moment…but she'd never seen her face. Never heard her name. How to pick her out, one girl out of hundreds? 

Artemis could have done it, she thought morosely. Artemis could have felt the girl from a distance and homed in, just like that. But she didn't have that kind of skill, that kind of sensitivity. She'd have to be right up close, almost touching. 

After all, as Artemis was entirely too fond of pointing out, she didn't have the years—hell, the centuries—of experience he had. The first-hand knowledge. Or the…the purity. 

_Maybe I should go back and get him,_ she thought glumly. _I did find her first, after all. He'd have to give me credit for that._

_Sure he would._

"Damn," she muttered. Of course, if she went back, she'd have to face another lecture. Another long, boring speech about their mission, their great responsibility, the sacred trust, and all the other dreary old talk he loved to spout. And he actually meant it, too; that was the worst part. He had actually spent the last seven _hundred_ years searching for someone he wasn't even sure existed. 

Oh, she supposed she believed it too, when it came right down to it. The fact that she could talk (in spite of everything) had to mean something. But…that kind of devotion, the level of dedication that he expected her to live up to…it drove her mad. Finally, it had driven her away. And now, just when she'd been beginning to think she could make it on her own, she had to go back? 

"Damn it," she said again. "Damn, damn, damn." 

She heard a gasp. She looked up, far too late. There was a young boy there, about twelve, staring at her, his mouth wide open. Oh, no, she'd been talking to herself again, how many _times_ had Artemis warned her about that? And now it was too late. 

Maybe it wasn't too late… 

She mewed and then stalked toward him, rubbed against his leg. Purred a little. _I'm just an ordinary cat. See how ordinary I can be._ Rubbed past his leg again, then strolled away without looking back, sat down and began to wash— 

"You talked," he said softly. She couldn't help herself; she twitched an ear and looked up sharply. There was wonder in his face, and…delight? "I heard you talk. You even got the mark on your forehead." He stepped closer, and she got up quickly, poised to spring away. "It's supposed to be a crescent moon, though." 

No good. Damn, damn, damn. He had her dead to rights. Another blasted Queen-Serenity-and-her-Senshi fan. Probably watched the anime, even had the figurine set. It was no good trying to fool him; he was young enough to believe in magic. He _wanted_ to believe. 

"Beat it, kid," she said. "I haven't got time for this." Then she took off, at a dead run. The bushes were only a few seconds away. She heard him gasp, heard him come after her, much too late. Losing him was effortless. 

_Have to be careful now,_ she thought, furious with herself. _The kid will talk. Worse still, he'll be on the lookout for me. Artemis is going to have a fit when I tell him—_

She stopped. 

On the other hand, maybe Artemis didn't have to be told. 

And maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to go and find Artemis at all. Maybe she could find the mystery Senshi herself…if she had an ally. Someone who was predisposed to help her. Someone who knew the school. Someone who could ask the right questions.

- - -

He sat under a tree, grumbling to himself. Why did she have to run away like that? He wasn't going to hurt her. He just wanted to talk to her. Hear her answer. Just…to know that it was real. To touch the magic. 

But she ran away. And she was _rude_. The Moon Cats weren't supposed to be rude. He knew. He watched them all the time on the viddy. They were supposed to be wise and gentle and help people… 

"Why aren't you in class, kid?" 

He looked around wildly. Then he looked _up_. The cat was standing on a tree-branch up above him, staring down. The white circle on her forehead seemed to stand out of the shadows. 

"You came back!" he burst out. "Please, I won't hurt you. I just want to—" 

"Why aren't you in class?" the cat asked again. 

He hung his head. "I fell asleep. Sensei told me to go stand in the hall." 

"So you came outside instead?" 

"Well—" He waved his hand around, trying to indicate the—well, the whole world. The futility and the boredom of school, when there was so much outside. He'd be in trouble later, but for now there was sunshine and trees and talking cats… 

To his surprise, the cat laughed. "Fair enough. What's your name, kid?" She stepped forward delicately, poking her head out of the leaves and into the sunshine. Almost close enough to touch. 

"Hideo. Kawatake Hideo." 

"Hmm. All right, Kawatake Hideo. How would you like to lend me a hand with something…?" 

* * *

  

Within two hours of Masao's call, the report was on Colonel Shiro's desk at 'S' Division headquarters. Shiro glanced through it quickly, then took a moment to examine the attached file. 

This cat-search directive was driving the switchboard operators mad, he knew. Along with most of the rest of 'S' Division. Nobody knew why someone high-up had gone soft in the head about cats, but the directive had come from a long way upstairs, so it had to be treated seriously. No matter how insane it was. 

Cat reports had come flooding in almost as soon as the briefing sheet went out to the Irregulars. Most of them could be eliminated from consideration immediately; but that was to be expected from Irregular reports. Less than thirty reports were actually sent up for further investigation. 

The report from Kitada Masao headed the list on Shiro's desk. Partly it was because of the very definite nature of the report: not a half-remembered sighting of an odd-looking cat, but a firm description of a sign on a notice-board. And partly it was because his file showed that Kitada had never reported anything before. That made it a little more likely that he had something genuine to say now. 

Shiro read the report again, more slowly this time. Then he called in his ADC. 

"This Kitada sighting," he said without preamble. "Can we confirm it?" 

"I've got someone on it now," said the ADC, Lieutenant Midori: a heavy-set young man with short, curly black hair. "We should have a report back within half an hour." 

"That sign worries me," Shiro said thoughtfully. "It could just be a simple lost-pet notice. But Kitada says it was on official stationery. That suggests that someone else might know something." 

"Sir…" Midori began hesitantly. Shiro looked up, his bushy eyebrows raised. Midori gave his lips a quick, nervous lick and said, "I don't understand. Why are we looking for cats, anyway? It seems like, well, an odd thing for 'S' Division to be doing." 

"A waste of our time?" Shiro suggested, not unkindly. Midori nodded. Shiro sighed. "To tell the truth, Lieutenant, I don't know either. All I know is that the order came down from high-up. _Very_ high up." 

Midori nodded, his eyes widening a fraction. That meant the Serenity Council. "A lost pet, maybe? But why not give it to 'P' Division?" 

"And yet they pass it to Security, not Police. I know. There's obviously something special about the cat. An experimental animal, perhaps." 

"Escaped from 'Q'?" 

They both laughed. 'Q' Division was an old joke in the Security forces; something out of an old book. It was supposed to be the group that designed and built high-tech gadgets and weapons for 'S' Division agents. It didn't actually exist, of course. What equipment they did have—far less than the public thought—came from 'M' Division, the Council's maintenance arm. 

"Well, whatever the reason," Shiro said, "we're stuck with it. When you hear back about that notice, let me—" 

Midori's comm buzzed. "Excuse me," he said. "That may be it right now." He thumbed the comm and read the waiting message. Then, nodding, he said, "The notice is confirmed, sir. It matches our description very closely, right down to the scar on the forehead." 

"Very well." Shiro thought for a moment, running a hand through his thick white hair. "There are at least four possibilities. It may all be a fantastic coincidence, of course. Or, who knows? The cat's real owner may be there at the gym, looking for it. Or the notice could be put up by one of our own Irregulars, trying to get information. Or—" he gave Midori a sharp glance "—we could be competing with someone else. If the Sankaku clans know we're after a cat, they might decide it'd be useful to find it first." 

Midori nodded. 

"Right. Put a team of Regulars on it. Good undercover men. They're to watch the gymnasium, find out who placed the notice—you know the drill." 

"Yes, sir. Any particular cover?" 

"Let the team leader decide. Oh, and activate the Irregular who saw the notice—what was it? Kitada Masao—and have him work with the team." 

"I'm sure he'll be delighted," Midori murmured blandly. 

"Hell, he knew what he was signing up for. It's not likely to take more than a few days, anyway." 

Midori nodded and marched out. He was trying to hide a grin, and Shiro sighed. His ADC could have a nasty sense of humour sometimes, and he suspected that Kitada Masao was not going to be a happy man. 

* * *

  

"I think I found them," Hideo said excitedly. They were crouched down in a stand of bushes at the edge of the school grounds. Bendis kept a close lookout as she listened. It was lunch-time, and there were kids everywhere. If any of them came too close, she had to be ready to fall back into her I'm-an-ordinary-cat routine. 

"Good news," she said noncommittally. The boy was enthusiastic, but she'd wait to see for herself before getting excited. "You're sure? Three people named Iku, Nana-chan and Eitoku-kun?" 

Hideo pulled out a rather crumpled bit of paper. Clearing his throat importantly, he read, "Higoshi Nanako, Shiomi Eitoku and Kodama Iku. Those were the only ones I could find who—" 

"All right. What class are they in? No, wait, they'll be outside at the moment. Where do I find them?" 

Hideo told her. She listened to him chatter, thinking hard. She hadn't mentioned the fourth person to the boy, of course, the one she was really interested in. She didn't trust him that far. But the three whose names she knew would lead her to the fourth. To the Senshi. 

"All right," she said at last. "I'll check them out. You can go back and finish your lunch, kid. Thanks." 

"All right," he said. He sounded disappointed. "Can't I help, Luna? Maybe if I—" 

"_What_ did you call me?" 

Hideo seemed taken aback. "Luna. That's your name, isn't it? I saw it on the viddy. You and the Queen and all the Sailor Senshi…" 

Bendis groaned. "Get real, kid! That was a long time ago. I wasn't even _born_ then!" With a sigh, she tried to take on a more reasonable tone. "Look, kid…Hideo. Luna's dead. She died in the Great Fall, seven hundred years ago, just like all the others. You must know about that, right?" 

Reluctantly, he nodded. Then: "But on the viddy it said—" 

"Kid…" 

He fell silent obediently. With a sigh of relief Bendis turned to go. But before she'd taken more than a single step he burst out, "But then where did _you_ come from?" 

She hesitated. Well, really, what did it matter? "Luna was my great- grandmother, kid. My name is Bendis. All right?" 

She turned to leave again, but of course he managed to slip in another question. She was beginning to appreciate why Artemis sometimes seemed so impatient with her. 

"Are there really no more Senshi, then?" he asked. 

"Don't count on it," she said without thinking. And that really _was_ too much. She took off before he could ask anything else.

- - -

There were quite a few people in the area of the school grounds that Hideo had described, but it didn't take Bendis long to find the ones she wanted. A group of two girls and a boy; there weren't too many of those. She tried three groups before she recognised a voice. 

So. She took a look at the three before approaching them. It took a moment to tell which girl was which, until one of them spoke. Nanako's voice was unmistakable: bright, bubbly, and none too intelligent. She was tallish, with shoulder-length black hair; her face was rather plain and broad but she had an infectious grin that she wore constantly as she talked, which seemed to be most of the time. 

The other girl had to be Iku. She was about the same height as Nanako, but was otherwise a complete contrast: lean but not bony, with a thin, sharp face and wary brown eyes. Her skin was darker than the other two's: a dusky golden shade. Her black hair was braided, falling half- way down her back. She listened to Nanako chatter, her face absorbed, but seldom spoke herself. 

Finally, Eitoku: skinny, a little below average height, with a squarish, rather serious face and a crew-cut that really didn't suit him. A pair of reading glasses hung around his neck on a fine silver chain. He glanced up as Bendis approached the trio and gave a quick smile that seemed to transform his face. 

"Well, well," he said. "Back for more, eh?" 

"What are you talking about?" said Nanako, looking around quickly. "Oh, it's the kitty! Why did you run off before, you silly thing?" 

Bendis strolled up to her, delicately sniffed the outstretched hand, and butted her head against it, purring. It was so degrading, she thought in a burst of self-pity. But in a good cause… 

To her disgust, Nanako picked her up and started cooing over her. "Ohh…did the nasty girl give you a fright?" she said in a sickly-sweet baby-voice. Bendis wanted to be sick. It was very gratifying to see that the others seemed to feel the same way. 

Iku winced. "Nana-chan," she protested. 

"I was just eating," muttered Eitoku. "But now, I think I'll give it a pass…" 

"Nobody loves me," Nanako lamented. "But _you_ do, don't you, neko- chan?" She cuddled Bendis a little closer. Bendis managed to keep on purring, with an effort. 

"What's that mark on its forehead?" wondered Eitoku. 

Iku craned her head to look. "Some kind of scar," she suggested. 

"Oohhh…" Nanako reached out and touched it gently. Bendis was careful to wince as if it were painful. If they thought of her mark as a scar, they were much less likely to associate her with her ancestor. "Yes, I think it's sore." 

"Well, don't go touching it then," Eitoku suggested dryly. "I think the poor thing's had enough for today, what with you poking at it, and the way McCrea-san hurt it earlier." 

"Don't you be nasty! Beth-chan didn't hurt it! She just startled it, that's all." 

Bendis pricked up her ears, suddenly paying much closer attention. That was the Senshi they were talking about; it had to be. But…_'Beth'? That's an odd name._

"Oh, come on. I know you always stick up for her, Nana-chan, but you saw how it took off when she touched it. She didn't just startle it. I think maybe she pinched it, or something." 

"Beth-chan wouldn't do something like that! Why are you always so nasty to her?" 

"Well, I don't like her. Those Clavers are always so stuck-up, thinking they own everything—" 

"Beth's not like that!" 

"Oh, no? Tell me she's not stuck up, when she's always sneaking around, sucking up to the teachers, and spying on people—" 

"Spying on people?" Nanako sounded genuinely bewildered. 

"Yes! Everywhere I go, it seems like she's there, trying to hide, always watching me out of the corner of her eye, and pretending to look away when I notice!" 

There was a long pause. Iku covered her mouth with her hand and looked away quickly. 

"I, um, don't think spying is what she's doing," Nanako said carefully. Eitoku shot her a suspicious glance. She looked as if she were trying not to laugh, for some reason. 

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "What else would she be—look! There she is, right now! She's doing it again! See for yourself!" 

They all looked. Bendis managed to squirm around in Nanako's arms just in time to catch a quick glimpse of a girl shrinking guiltily out of sight behind a tree. 

"There, you see?" insisted Eitoku. "Tell me she isn't snooping around now!" 

Nanako made a peculiar choking sound. For a moment, her arms loosened. Seizing the chance, Bendis wriggled free and dropped to the ground, then started to walk away slowly. Nanako made a half-hearted grab at her, then gave up and began to lecture Eitoku. The effect was rather spoiled by the way she kept giggling. 

Bendis made her way gradually toward the tree Beth was hiding behind, taking a path that she hoped would seem fairly random to anybody watching. At last she was able to duck into some bushes, and then head directly for her goal. 

At the same time, she was thinking: _A Claver?_ That was unexpected. But the name, McCrea Beth, sounded right; and the glimpse she'd caught before made it clear that the girl was of enclave stock. _'McCrea'…now is that a Finnish name, or Swedish?_ She tried to remember what Artemis had told her—

- - -

The Great Fall came in the year 3478. The attack was unexpected, and devastating. Civilisation toppled almost overnight, all over the world. Crystal Tokyo held out for a time, but finally it too was brought low. Then in the wake of the first disaster came a second, even more terrible. 

Suddenly, all modern crystal technology had stopped working. Nobody knew why, or cared; they were too busy simply trying to stay alive to worry about such things. Tens of millions had died in the Fall; now, billions more followed. The Second Dark Age began. 

Here and there, pockets of light remained. A paltry few communities, scattered across the globe, struggled to hold on to the remnants of technology. Those that succeeded usually did so because they had access to ancient printed books, rather than the modern crystal-readers that no longer worked. These enclaves preserved a few vestiges of the great civilisation of the Crystal Millennium, and of the memory of those who fell in its defence: Queen Serenity and her warrior-companions. 

As the years—the centuries—rolled by, one by one the enclaves began to fail. Some of them simply died out; others fell to attack by the have-nots. The dark is ever envious of the light. 

A little over six hundred years after the Fall, everything changed again. An enclave in India, one of the last few remaining, sent a scouting expedition—by refitted sailing ship—to the ruins of Crystal Tokyo. What the expedition discovered there astonished them. 

They set up a base to study what they had found. Their activities soon began to attract attention from Japanese survivors. Until then the locals had shunned the ruins of the city; but now, they were attracted by the sight of a ship…and by the lights that began to burn amid the ruins. 

Within a year or two, the expedition found that a small town was coming into existence around them. It was the foundation of a city reborn, a new Tokyo: Third Tokyo. Small at first, but rapidly growing. 

Ninety-eight years later, civilisation was stretching out to cover most of the world again; and Third Tokyo was the centre of that world. Most of her people were Japanese, of course; but a sizeable proportion were descended from the folk of the surviving enclaves, drawn to the reborn city to study, to learn—and to build. Today, a full third of the population came from the enclaves, or were descended from Clavers. The city was a world in microcosm—

- - -

The girl saw that the ones she'd been watching had noticed her, and hurried away. Bendis followed her silently through the trees. 

So this was the new Senshi? Enclave stock, beyond a doubt, but she did look like she had some Japanese blood; perhaps a parent or grandparent. She had shoulder-length, slightly curly, light brown hair and green eyes. Average height; pale skin. She looked unhappy. 

And she was unquestionably a Senshi. Twice, Bendis got close enough to be certain. 

The girl stopped moving at last, pulled a book out of her satchel, and began to read. Bendis managed to sneak a glance at it. Poetry of some kind. Bendis settled down to watch her, and to think. 

All right. The long, long search was over. The Senshi were returning at last, and Beth seemed to be the first. That left only one question: which Senshi was she? 

* * *

  

Masao sat up straight at his desk and stretched with a groan. As he'd expected, his supervisor had been deeply unhappy with his long absence from work. Of course, Masao hadn't been able to tell her why he'd gone home instead of coming straight back from the gymnasium; and of course that only made it worse. The rather feeble excuse he'd come up with had not gone down well. He was having a very bad day. 

He wondered if he dared go and get another coffee. The last time he'd left his desk (it had only been for a lavatory break) Sachiko had given him a glare that would have impressed a drill sergeant. And she was usually so easy to get along with. 

His commset buzzed. He picked up the mobile unit. "Hello?" 

"Kitada Masao?" 

"Yes, Kitada here." 

"Your uncle Tomiji sends his regards." 

"My—? I don't have an uncle Tomiji." It did sound vaguely familiar, though. Where had he heard that name before? 

There was a pause. Then the voice said, "Your uncle Tomiji from Shikoku." 

"But I don't know anyone in Shi—oh. Oh!" Suddenly the 'S' Division protocols he was supposed to have memorised came back to him. Puzzled, and slightly apprehensive, he groped for the right response. "Ah, yes, and how is Aunt, er, Kyoto? I mean, Kyoko?" 

Another, longer pause. "This is just too painful for words. Look, can you speak freely?" 

Masao took a quick glance around. "Er. Yes." 

"Right. You're being activated. Get down to the Olympus right away. There'll be a team waiting there for you. They'll tell you what you need to know." 

"Ahh…what?" 

There was a sigh. Then the message was repeated, word for word. Perhaps that was what finally convinced him that he wasn't having a nightmare. This time, the voice added, "You ought to hurry." 

It took a few moments to sink in. Then he realised the horrible truth. He'd thought he'd been having a bad day before. He hadn't dreamed just how bad a day could get. 

Activated. He couldn't believe it. Of course, he'd known it could happen; he'd known that it was technically possible. But it never _did_ happen. Everyone knew that. 'S' Division Irregulars were simply paid informers. They lived perfectly normal lives; they worked for a living like everyone else did…and they reported in if they saw anything that Security was interested in. Oh, yes, they knew that they could be called up—activated—to serve full-time if the circumstances required it. That was what the refresher workshops every three months were for. But the circumstances never _did_ require it. That was how it worked. 

That was how it was _supposed_ to work. 

"But…but…but…" He was gabbling. He sounded like an idiot. He closed his mouth before he could say "but" again. "How long will this take?" he asked plaintively. 

"Probably only a few days," the voice told him. It didn't sound very sympathetic. Actually, it sounded as if it were enjoying itself. "But it could be a couple of weeks or more." 

A couple of weeks. Or more. He tried to picture Sachiko's face when he told her that. It wasn't a pretty sight. 

"But what am I going to tell my supervisor?" he whined. He sounded pathetic. He knew it. He _felt_ pathetic. 

The voice chuckled. "Use your initiative," it said, and hung up. 

Masao buried his face in his hands. Life was hell. You spotted a lost- cat poster and suddenly everyone was out to get you. That was 'S' Division for you. He sighed heavily, got up, and started to walk toward the door, hanging his head. Things just couldn't get any worse that this. 

Things got worse. "Oh, Masao-chan?" said a voice sweetly. He turned and saw Sachiko, beckoning to him. She was smiling. He'd never realised just how menacingly she could smile. 

"Er…yes?" he said helplessly. 

"Just where do you think _you're_ going?" she inquired. She bared her teeth and snarled. No, that was just his imagination. She was still smiling. But it certainly _seemed_ like she was baring her teeth and snarling. 

His thoughts whirled crazily. _Use your initiative,_ the man had said. He needed an excuse. A good excuse, something convincing. Something that anyone would agree meant he had to leave at once. Something that even Sachiko would have to accept. And quite suddenly, like a dream, it came to him. 

"Good-bye," he said, and ran for it. 

* * *

  

Elsewhere in the city: 

In an alley in the business district, a white cat finished eating a lump of half-rotten meat (hardly noticing the taste; he'd eaten much worse before), found a spot that was out of the wind, curled up, and closed his eyes. Artemis slept, and dreamed of happier days; of the best friend he'd ever had; of a girl named Minako. 

Elsewhere in the city: 

Pappadopoulos Itsuko finished adding up a column of figures, sat back in her chair, and sighed. Day after day, year after year, it just went on and on. The Queen's line was ended, there could be no redemption this time; and so what was the point any more? Itsuko was thousands of years old, and sometimes she felt so tired of it all that she wanted to weep. And as she often did at times like this, she locked her office door, touched the series of contact points on the wall, stepped through the hidden door that swung silently open—and knelt down in the little room beyond, and bowed her head before the sacred fire. The fire that had once burned in her grandfather's temple long ago; the fire that she had brought out of the ruins of Crystal Tokyo; the fire that, in more than two thousand years, had never gone out. Itsuko prayed. 

Elsewhere in the city: 

The Darkness slumbered. For a little while longer. 

* * *

  

McCrea Beth walked home. Bendis followed her. 

Bendis was watching the girl very closely. She was waiting for the right moment. The perfect opportunity. The moment to strike. Bendis had a plan. 

She had finally worked out how to tell which Senshi Beth was. It was really very simple. She remembered what Artemis had told her once, in one of his endless repetitions of the stories about the Good Old Days. It was back when Luna had first discovered that Mizuno Ami was a Senshi. There'd been some kind of attack going on; Ami had been grabbed by some monster or other; and the symbol for Mercury appeared on her forehead. 

Apparently it had been the same with the other Senshi, too. A moment of peril, and the symbol appeared. Well, that sounded simple enough. 

Bendis was looking out for ways to put Beth in danger. 

They walked down the street. Beth was going slowly; she seemed to be off in some kind of daydream. Bendis began to get impatient. This could take forever! Then, finally, she saw what she was looking for. 

_Start small,_ she thought. After all, she didn't want to get the girl hurt…well, not unless she had to. 

She leaped up onto the wall that ran alongside the pavement and ran quickly ahead. There were a few loose stones there. She eyed them uncertainly. Were they big enough? Too big? Then, as Beth drew near, she made up her mind, aimed, and knocked one of them with her paw. And watched Beth's face intently. 

"Ow!" 

No change. Dammit. All right, maybe that wasn't dangerous enough. What next? 

Suddenly she realised that Beth was staring up at her. She tensed. 

"Bad kitty!" Beth said, rubbing her head, and walked on. 

Bendis followed once more, thinking hard. This was going to be trickier than she'd thought. If Beth kept on seeing the same cat, getting her into trouble again and again, she was bound to get suspicious. Bendis would have to be more…subtle. 

She grinned in anticipation. Up ahead, she could see another perfect opportunity already.

- - -

McCrea Beth walked home. She was bruised, dirty, scratched, bumped, battered, tattered, aching in a large number of places, and very, very puzzled. This was turning out to be quite a strange day. Quite a painful one, too. 

She wondered if being accident-prone was like a disease: if you could suddenly catch it. 

The really odd part was that so many of the accidents she was having seemed to involve cats. For example, there was the large, savage dog that had suddenly appeared, chasing after a small tabby-cat; she'd been knocked over, but fortunately the dog had ignored her and followed the cat. And there was the bicycle; she was almost certain she'd heard a hiss, just before it suddenly swerved and crashed into her. Then there were the old wooden boxes that had been piled up beside a shop; she could have sworn she'd seen a small, dark shape leaping into them, right before they all came down on her in a heap. And the two men who'd been carrying a large, heavy-looking crate; _something_ had tripped one of them up, right as she walked past. 

On the other hand…surely cats couldn't be blamed for everything. Surely? The flowerpot that fell out of a window above her, now; that could just as easily have been a curtain, blowing in the wind. And she didn't see how a cat could get hold of ice, though it was certainly odd that there'd been so much of it scattered on the pavement, just as she walked around a corner. 

She walked on, thinking about it and rubbing some of her sorer spots absently. She was almost through the local shopping district; home was only a few minutes away, and there she would, presumably, be safe. And then— 

Her leg struck something (something suspiciously furry), and she yelped and fell sprawling—thinking: _Oh, no, not again!_—flat on her face. She rubbed her bruised nose, sighed, and looked up. There was something moving, up above her— 

With a squawk of pure panic, she rolled frantically to one side, getting out of the way barely in time before the piano hit, just where she'd been lying. The noise wasn't even faintly musical. A few splinters struck her, but she was otherwise unharmed. 

_Now this is just getting silly,_ she thought hazily, climbing slowly to her feet. _Whoever heard of being hit by a falling __piano_, of all things! 

—On impulse, she glanced around. And—yes!—there was that cat again, staring at her. Somehow, absurdly, it seemed disappointed. With a laugh, she reached down and picked it up before it could get away. It reminded her of the cat she'd seen that morning at school. But that cat had run away when she'd touched it. This one had a funny mark on its forehead, a white circle. 

It struggled in her arms, jumped down, and ran away. She sighed. She just didn't seem to be having any luck with cats today. She started on her way again, then paused and glanced back. 

The cat had stopped some distance away. It was watching her. Probably to see if she was chasing it, she thought, and laughed. The way it stood there, with its head cocked on one side and its eyes half-closed, it looked exactly as if it were deep in thought. 

Then she heard the engine-sound, and she realised. Her eyes widened in horror. The cat had stopped in the middle of the road. 

"No! Look out!" 

—The truck's horn buzzed, deafeningly loud— 

—The cat looked around, and froze— 

—And Beth took one quick breath and made a flying leap— 

Time seemed to slow down in mid-air. She saw everything with crystal clarity. The cat, its eyes enormous, unable to move, staring up at the oncoming truck. Only a few metres away now. The truck driver, pounding his horn and shouting, and suddenly noticing the girl; his own eyes widening as he wrenched at the steering bar. The hum of the engine and the subdued roar of the cooling system, far too close—no, right on top of her, she wasn't going to make it— 

A tingling, burning sensation on her forehead. 

She grabbed the cat, hit the road and rolled. The truck roared past, missing her by centimetres, and lurched to a stop some distance ahead. The driver had swerved just in time. She lay there, panting, for a few seconds, unable to move. The cat in her arms was staring up at her. 

She heard shouts. Footsteps approaching. She took a deep breath and sat up. A few new bruises and scrapes, that was all. The driver ran up to her; she saw the relief in his eyes. Then, of course, he got angry. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that. 

She spoke to him, reassured him that she was unhurt, and apologised humbly for her rashness. Then, quite calmly, she picked up her satchel and started for home again. The cat was still in her arms; it wasn't trying to run now. 

Half-way there, reaction set in and she had to stop for a few minutes and sit down, shuddering. After a while she could move again. 

Nobody was home when she arrived. She let herself in, went into her bedroom, put the cat down, dropped her satchel and began to get changed. Her school uniform was filthy, and it was going to need mending as well. She winced. What was her mother going to say? 

Something drew her eyes to the cat. It was standing there, staring at her, as if waiting to get her full attention. 

The day got even stranger. 

The cat sprang up and did a backflip. Cats couldn't _do_ that, could they? And at the peak of its jump something seemed to appear in mid-air, out of nowhere: something short, and pointed. The cat landed, somehow contriving to look satisfied. It looked down at the thing, and waited. 

She picked it up numbly. It was a short, yellow rod, like a pen, with a curious symbol at one end. It seemed to tingle in her hand. 

"Say the words," the cat said. 

"What words?" Now, at last, it all made sense. She was dreaming. Cats didn't do backflips; they didn't make cheap toys appear out of thin air; and they certainly didn't talk. 

"The words in your head. You know. Say them." 

As a matter of fact, there _was_ a phrase running through her head. Something out of a children's viddy program, oddly enough. Queen Serenity and her— 

"This is silly," she protested. 

"Say the words!" 

She shrugged. It was only a dream, so what did it matter? She held the rod up high—something about the moment seemed to demand that—and said the words. 

"VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!" 

In the last moment before it began, in that bare instant when the words seemed to ring in the air and the world held its breath, she knew, _knew_ beyond any doubt that it was no dream. This was no dream, this was real, and her life was about to change forever. 

Then the power and the glory came. The light, and the electric smell in the air, and the flood of sensation, the energy pouring into her body, the transformation, and oh, what a rush it was— 

Then it was over, and she stood there in her uniform. 

And Senshi walked the earth again. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER ONE**

**Next:** Sailor Venus is back to save the world! But is the world ready for her?


	3. Chapter 2: Walking the Walk

**What has gone before:** It's the year 4200. More than seven hundred years ago, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the mysterious evil. All over the world, civilisation fell. Then, one hundred years ago, a great renaissance began. Today the city of Third Tokyo is the centre of a new world order, ruled by a body known as the Serenity Council. 

Artemis survived the final battle, and now wanders the world with his young great-granddaughter Bendis, hoping that the Senshi will somehow be reborn once more. When Bendis inadvertently talks to a Serenity Council member, the Council begins a surreptitious hunt for her. Shortly after, Artemis and Bendis argue and split up. In a nearby school, Bendis finds that one of the students, McCrea Beth, is the new Sailor Venus: first of a new generation of Senshi. 

Meanwhile Artemis asks an old friend to help find Bendis again: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, who somehow survived the final battle for Crystal Tokyo. Now powerless, she tries to avoid recognition, going by the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko, owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. However, Itsuko's efforts to help Artemis draw attention and a secret investigation of the Olympus begins… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER TWO  
Walking the Walk:  
Training the Cat Way**

"This is just _so_ cool." 

Bendis stared at Sailor Venus, a little alarmed. Whatever reaction she had been expecting, this wasn't it. 

"So let's see if I've got this straight. I'm the reincarnation of some dead moon girl, and I get to fight all sorts of bad guys, and kick some serious bootie, and become a princess, right?" 

"What?" said Bendis dazedly. "No! Maybe! Who told you all that?" 

"It's only on the viddy every day! 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi.' Not that I watch it any more of course, that stuff is like for little kids only. Hey, am I going to get my own action figure?" 

"A-action figure?" 

"Well, never mind. Oh, and I get all those neat attacks too! I've just _got_ to try that 'Lovely Chain' thing." 

"Attacks? No, wait! Don't! Are you nuts?" shouted Bendis. Somehow she'd thought _she_ was going to be the one in control here. How could she have been so wrong? "Anyway, it's called the 'Love-me Chain,' not 'Lovely Chain.'" 

"What? But 'Love-me Chain' doesn't make any sense! Oh, let's just give it a try anyway—" 

"No, don't—" 

"VENUS CHAIN THING!" 

There was a sudden loud noise. 

"Hmm," said Venus slowly. "I'm going to have to get that window fixed." 

Bendis simply stared at her for several seconds, unable to speak. Then she burst out: "You're crazy!" Venus raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?" the cat yelled. "You can't just go doing that indoors! What if somebody heard you? What if somebody _saw_ you?" 

"Oh, relax," Venus said cheerfully. "There's nobody else home." 

"Well, what about the neighbours? What about _me_? You could have hit me with that…that 'chain thing'!" 

"Oh, come on! I didn't, did I? It went great! Well, except the window, I suppose." 

Bendis shook her head in disbelief. "'Chain thing.' If Artemis heard you say that, he'd have a fit." 

Then again, she thought privately, that might be worth watching… 

"Ooh, Artemis?" said Venus, her eyes shining. "You mean he's for real? He's so cool! Where's Luna, then? And who are you, anyway? I never heard of a _tabby_ Moon Cat before. Are you on the viddy program? Maybe I missed an episode. Um, back when I used to watch it, I mean. And when do I get to fight some bad guys?" 

Bendis stared for a moment. "Which question do you want me to answer first?" she asked helplessly. 

Venus rolled her eyes. "All of them, of course!" 

_Of course,_ Bendis echoed silently. She wondered if all Senshi had multiple personalities. "Um, right," she said aloud. "Yes, Artemis is for real. He, uhh, he isn't around right now. He's…off on an important mission, ahh, somewhere." _If Artemis finds out what I've done before I calm this girl down a bit, he's gonna tear me to pieces!_ "What was the next one? Oh, right. Luna is…Luna is…what are you _doing_?" 

Venus was staring at her reflection in the mirror. "This is pretty good," she announced. "I must be four, five cents taller, and I got a bust job as well! Wow, look at that—" 

Bendis coughed. "Yes, I can—" 

"Hmm. Let's take a better look—how do I undo this stupid costume? Who designed it, anyway? Must be pretty draughty on a cold day outside. Hey, I can't get this thing off!" 

"It's, uhh, it's not meant to come off, you just change back to your normal self instead." 

"What? Change _back_? No way!" Venus gave her bust-line a final admiring glance and turned away from the mirror. "Oh well. What next? Bring on the bad guys!" She leaped across the room, landed awkwardly, knocking over a chair, but managed to turn it into a dramatic pose as if she'd meant to trip. "Yes! The valiant, daring, and devastatingly beautiful Sailor Venus is on the scene! Evil-doers, beware!" She levelled a finger at an imaginary opponent. "Prepare to face your worst nightmare, villain! In the name of the Moon—no, wait a minute, let me try that again. In the name of Venus—no, in the name of the planet Venus—that's better—you're history! Ahahaha! CRESCENT BEAM!" 

Bendis watched the posing rather nervously. This girl could change moods in a microsecond. Still, she seemed confident enough—for the moment—and it certainly looked like she was getting the hang of the speech-making. All in all, perhaps it was promising after all. 

—Then she heard her trying another attack, indoors again, and thought, _Promising? I must be out of my mind._ She looked for somewhere to hide. 

"Wait a minute," said Venus, sounding puzzled. "Nothing happened." 

"Eh?" Bendis poked her head out from under the bed. "What do you mean, nothing happened? Try it again. No, wait, DON'T TRY IT AGAIN—" 

"CRESCENT BEAM!" 

"Hmm," Bendis said. "You're right. Not even a fizzle. What are you doing wrong? I wonder if—what was that?" 

Downstairs, a door slammed. 

Venus panicked. "Ohmygosh!" she gabbled. "It's my parents! Quick, how do I change back out of this thing—" 

"Just relax and picture yourself changing back. Hurry!" Bendis watched anxiously as Venus closed her eyes and grimaced. Nothing happened for a moment; but then she seemed to find the trick. She shrank slightly; her fuku melted away, replaced by her dark-grey school uniform. 

Her tattered, filthy school uniform. Whoops. 

"Better get changed, fast," Bendis suggested helpfully. 

"Oh, _no_—" McCrea Beth jumped across the room to the dresser, tripping over her school-bag half-way, and started to rummage desperately though her drawers as she tried to yank her uniform off. Bendis watched, interested. 

"Beth-chan? Are you home?" called a woman's voice from the other side of the door. 

"Just coming," Beth shouted, pulling on a clean shirt frantically. As she made for the door Bendis thought about pointing out that she was still filthy, and covered with scrapes and bruises. But no, the cat decided. She had to learn to cope with adversity. 

The door slammed shut. Bendis relaxed, and looked around the room. It looked like a hurricane had struck. The floor was covered in clothing: piles of clean clothes left hanging out of open drawers, and the grimy, torn remains of a school uniform. A satchel lay in one corner; it had burst open and there were papers and books everywhere. An overturned chair lay in the middle of the pile, a bizarre centrepiece. One window was shattered, and broken glass lay all around, glittering in the evening sun. A cool breeze blew into the room, stirring the papers and scattering them even further. 

"Well," Bendis murmured. "That didn't go too badly." 

* * *

  

When Masao finally reached the Olympus, he found a group waiting for him as promised. What came next, though, was anything but promising. 

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded one of them, a burly man with short black hair and a thickly-stubbled face. "You were supposed to be here more than two hours ago!" 

"Oh, ease up, Kuroi," said the tall, lantern-jawed one. "I'm sure he's got a good excuse." 

"He'd better," rasped Kuroi. 

"Er…" 

Masao thought about telling them the truth—about how Sachiko had chased him down thirty-four flights of stairs, yelling threats at him all the way; about the half-hour he spent in the men's room, gasping for breath and occasionally throwing up from sheer terror; about his mad dash home to change out of his soiled clothes—and thought better of it. 

"Sorry," he said. 

The third man, who had been leaning on the wall, straightened up with a sigh. "All right, enough chitchat," he announced. He was a tall, athletically-built man with dark hair, a little smaller than the second speaker. "Kuroi, if you're going to beat him up, do it later. Aoiro, stop needling him. We've got work to do." 

"Right, we've got a kitty-cat to catch," Kuroi grumbled. 

"Yes, we do," said the third man. He offered a hand to Masao. "Captain Hiiro," he introduced himself. "And Kuroi there, Aoiro, and Mitsukai." The last was a woman, tall and thin, with dark shadows under her eyes. She glanced up as Hiiro introduced her, but did not speak. 

"Kitada Masao. Er, I really am sorry—" 

"Save it," Hiiro said. "Let's get to work. I assume you've been briefed on what's expected of you?" 

"Um. No. The man who called me just said I was being activated, and I should get down here. He wasn't very helpful, actually—" 

"Activated?" Hiiro stared at him. "You're an Irregular?" 

"Er…yes." 

"What the hell?" Kuroi burst out. "What do those idiots thing they're doing, saddling us with a boy scout?" 

"Quiet, Ryo," Hiiro said absently. "I wonder if…Kitada-san, did the man you spoke to give his name?" 

"No," Masao said, trying to hide his annoyance at the 'boy scout' tag. "He just made a few sarcastic remarks and told me to get down here." 

Hiiro was beginning to grin. "What sort of sarcastic remarks?" 

"Um, he said something about 'This is just too painful for words.' And then he told me I should just use my imagination when I asked what I was suppose to tell my boss—" 

"Midori," said Kuroi and Aoiro together. 

"It does sound like it," said Hiiro with a sigh. "He probably won't have been all that helpful, no. So. All right, then, how much _do_ you know about all this?" 

"Not very much," Masao admitted. "All I know is that you're—we're—looking for a cat for some reason." 

"'For some reason' is about right," said Hiiro. "That's all anyone knows. Though I've heard about a hundred theories, some more likely than others." 

"We've started a pool on them," put in Aoiro, with a grimace. "Want to buy in?" 

Masao blinked, trying to decide if the man was serious. "Er, no thanks," he said. Aoiro shrugged. 

Kuroi snorted. "Yeah, save your money," he said. "There's been enough thrown away on this damn-fool operation already; it must have cost millions by now—not to mention everyone's wasted time. Goddam cat must be the most valuable animal in the world!" 

A silence fell. It was plain that all four of the group, even the silent Mitsukai, agreed with Kuroi. At last Masao said, "So what are we supposed to do here, anyway?" 

Hiiro shrugged. "Check the notice, see who posted it, find them, and find out if the cat they're after is the same one we want," he said. "Shouldn't be too hard. You ought to be back at your regular job in a day or two." 

Aoiro gave Masao a thoughtful look. "I wonder why they brought you in in the first place," he murmured. "Are you an expert on cats, perhaps?" 

"No," answered Masao. "I just happened to see a lost-pet notice stuck up that sounded like the same cat, so I reported it." 

"Very odd. I wonder what the brass are up to…?" 

Mitsukai laughed. Masao jumped; it was the first time she'd made a sound. "Second-guessing again?" she inquired. 

Grimacing, Aoiro said, "All right, but you must admit it's strange." Mitsukai rolled her eyes, but did not answer. 

"Suppose we get started," Hiiro suggested. Masao had been wondering if he was the leader of the group; from the way the others reacted to what sounded like a casual comment, he knew he was right. "Ryozo, you and Mitsukai stay out here for the moment. Try and stay alert. There's not going to be any trouble, but we might as well be ready for it anyway." Kuroi and Mitsukai nodded. "Aoiro—you, me and Kitada-san will go take a look at the kitty-cat poster. Try to restrain your enthusiasm and let's just get it over with, all right?" 

The three of them walked into the building and up the steps to the Olympus's reception on the second floor. Masao pointed out the notice about the lost cat. Hiiro and Aoiro studied it carefully. 

"No name or address," Hiiro noted. "Just says to give any details to reception. Odd." 

"What surprised me was that it's on management stationery," said Masao. "Usually that's only for official announcements—membership notices, things like that. I'm surprised Pappadopoulos-san hasn't pulled this down yet, actually." 

"Could—what was that name again?—Pappadopoulos-san have put this up herself?" inquired Aoiro. 

"About a cat?" said Masao dubiously. "I doubt it." 

"Well, we can always ask," Hiiro decided briskly. "Aoiro, get a copy of that notice. Kitada-san, go to the desk and tell them you've seen a strange cat. Make it something completely unlike the one in this notice. Tell them you want to ask the owner if it's theirs. You should be able to get a name and a comm number, at least." 

Masao shrugged and approached the desk. He recognised the girl on duty. "Hi, Ochiyo-chan," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "They've left you stuck with it again?" 

"Oh, hello, Kitada-san," she smiled. She was a teenager with long dark- brown hair in a ponytail. "Yes, I'm holding the fort until the evening shift arrive. How can I help you?" 

He explained what he wanted. Ochiyo frowned. "I never heard anything about that," she said. "Let me see." She went over to the notice-board and read the sheet carefully. At last she said, "It must be some kind of joke. I'll have to check with Pappadopoulos-san, but it must be." 

"Could I speak to Pappadopoulos-san about it?" suggested Masao. 

Ochiyo gave him an odd look, and he realised that it must sound strange to be so insistent about a cat. Well, the truth was even stranger. 

"I'm sorry," the young girl said. "Pappadopoulos-san has gone home for the day. You'll have to see her tomorrow." 

Masao shrugged. Ochiyo started to head back to her desk, and then paused as she noticed Hiiro and Aoiro, still hovering in the background. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked politely. "Did you want to become members, perhaps?" 

Aoiro raised his eyebrows, but Hiiro answered smoothly, "Possibly. We really wanted to get some idea of your facilities first. Do you have some kind of a brochure…?" 

"Yes, of course." Ochiyo handed them several sheets. Hiiro took them with a smile of thanks, and he and Aoiro left, pretending to study them. Masao followed them out a minute later. 

"Well, what now?" Masao demanded as they met outside. 

Hiiro snorted. "We come back tomorrow, of course." He frowned in thought. "I wonder…" He looked over at Kuroi. "Ryozo, you and I are going to head in to Supply. There are a few things I think we're going to need. The rest of you"—he addressed the group—"can take off. Back here at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. Kitada, be on time." 

The group started to break apart. Masao turned to leave, but stopped when he heard his name once more. "Kitada," Hiiro said, "if your boss gives you trouble, you can tell him you're on a 'W' Division Civil Awareness course. Midori should have told you that. Our people will have notified 'W' Division when you were activated, so the authorities will back you up." 

Masao nodded gratefully as he turned once more and hurried away. He was fairly sure that Sachiko would be calling him that evening; at least he wouldn't be at a complete loss for an explanation to give her. A Civil Awareness course? He wondered what that was supposed to be. But then, if it was run by 'W' Division—the government's military and civil- defence arm—nobody was going to inquire too closely anyway. 

He hurried home. Somehow, he felt more tired than he'd ever felt before.

- - -

After Masao left, Ochiyo thought about the strange notice for a few minutes, then punched a button on the comm. 

"Yes?" came Itsuko's voice a moment later. Pappadopoulos-san had gone home, all right; but then for her, home was on the next floor up. 

Ochiyo told her about the strange notice, and about Masao's inquiries. Itsuko was most interested. 

* * *

  

Beth returned to her room some time later. She had bathed, and the worst of her cuts and bruises had been treated. Still, she looked rather subdued. 

"Well?" said Bendis expectantly. "How did it go?" She'd been getting bored in Beth's room. There wasn't much to look at or do there, though she'd been interested to note the number of (rather badly-drawn) pictures of a young man that she'd found hidden under Beth's bed. She rather thought that she'd seen the young man in question, at school earlier that day. 

Beth stared at her for a few moments. "Oh, no," she whispered. "This can't be happening." 

"What? Why? Don't tell me you—" 

Beth made frantic shushing gestures. "Quiet!" she hissed. "Someone will hear you!" 

"You didn't seem too worried about that before!" Bendis whispered back indignantly. 

"I—" Beth hesitated. "Talk outside," she whispered. Bendis nodded. Then, to her horror, Beth picked her up, walked briskly to the broken window, and simply dropped her out. She landed on her feet, unhurt, of course, but it was the principle of the thing. That girl needed a serious talking-to. 

A couple of minutes later she heard a door open and close. Footsteps approached. "That was very rude," she complained. 

"Sorry," Beth muttered. She glanced down at Bendis. There was an odd expression on her face: as if she were…afraid? 

"All right," said Bendis. First things first. Find somewhere private. That was easy; she'd seen somewhere perfect on the way in. "Come on, this way," she ordered. There were a pair of trees at the side of the house. One of them was fairly tall, and nice and bushy. Perfect for a cat; and if they kept their voices reasonably low nobody would ever know they were there. 

She leaped up into the branches. Some distance up there was a convenient fork. She settled down comfortably, then looked around for Beth. The girl wasn't there. She got up and peered down. Beth was standing down on the ground, looking up at her. "Well, come on," she snapped. 

"You…want me to climb up there?" said Beth. She sounded dubious. What on earth was wrong with the girl? 

"Yes, of course!" Really, these humans, Bendis thought, annoyed. They were lacking in the most elementary skills. She would just have to bring the girl up to scratch… 

With some effort, Beth climbed up and found a seat on a branch near Bendis' fork. She looked rather uncomfortable. 

"Now then," said Bendis briskly. She'd had some time to think about this. By all reports, Artemis and Luna had made rather a hash of training the last Senshi. Oh, they didn't like to admit it…but it was obvious, even in the stories Artemis himself told. What was needed now was a bit of discipline, a bit of strategy, and quite a bit of sheer creativity. And she was just the cat to handle it. 

Remember, sound cool and confident, she told herself firmly. "We need to get you settled down and confident with your powers," she stated. "Working out your problem with the Crescent Beam is a big priority. Also we need to work on your aim with the Love-Me Chain. And I think you're going to need some physical training as well, if you can't even climb a tree…" 

She trailed off. Beth was simply staring at her. "What?" she asked, annoyed. 

"You're talking," Beth whispered. "You're a Moon Cat. It's real." 

"Oh, very good. I thought we'd already covered this before. Yes, I'm talking. Very clever of you. My name is Bendis—_not_ Luna," she added quickly. "And I'm—_now_ what?" 

"It's real," whispered Beth again. "Oh, God. It's real. I'm a Sailor Senshi. Oh, no. What are my parents gonna say? I can't be a Sailor Senshi! They're all supposed to be dead! What am I going to _do_?" 

"You," Bendis said with unaccustomed gravity, "are going to fight for love and justice, in the name of the planet Venus." 

"Don't _say_ that! It's sacrilege!" 

"It's not sacrilege. It's what you were born to do. To guard and to defend. To fight in the service of the Queen." 

"The Queen? But she's dead!" Beth burst out. Then, rather hesitantly: "Isn't she?" 

"Well, technically, yes," Bendis admitted. "But Artemis is pretty sure there's an heir around somewhere." Artemis could be a little fanatical on the subject, actually. "But don't worry about that. She's bound to turn up sooner or later." _Maybe. Hopefully._

"I don't understand any of this," said Beth mournfully. "If everyone died back during the Great Fall…er, they did die, right?" Bendis nodded. "If they all died back then…then why is it all starting up again now? And why pick _me_?" 

"I didn't pick you. Like I said before, this is what you were born to do. I only recognised the potential in you." 

"Potential…" Beth took a deep breath. "So, I'm Lady Aino reborn?" 

"Oh, no," Bendis told her, startled. "What gave you that idea? No, you're an original. But don't sweat it," she added nonchalantly. "That's what I'm here for. Just stick with me and you won't have any problems. Right?" 

"Right," Beth said dubiously. 

Inwardly, Bendis frowned. What was this girl's problem? "Don't worry," she reiterated. "After all, there's no Queen Beryl around this time to cause trouble…so you've got nothing to worry about." 

"Who's Queen Beryl?" 

"Huh?" Bendis eyed the girl suspiciously for a moment. "I thought you said you watched that viddy program," she accused. 

Beth's eyes widened guiltily. "Me?" she said. "No! Of course not! That's a kid's program! I mean, I used to watch it…once or twice…when I was little, but, um…" 

"Oh, boy," said Bendis, shaking her head. "Look, on this program that you…used to watch…there wasn't anything about Queen Beryl? The Dark Kingdom?" Beth shook her head. "Geez. Well, what about the Black Moon? The Death Busters? Pharaoh-90? Nehelenia? Galaxia? What, _none_ of them? Really?" Beth kept shaking her head, looking confused. "Well, what _did_ they fight, then?" 

"Umm, there were these alien invaders called Zentraedi…and then they fought Queen Ryoko and her space pirates…and—" 

"Stop. Please." _I can't take this,_ Bendis though, agonised. _How could they do this? It's…it's a travesty! A mockery! It shouldn't be—hmmm. I wonder if Artemis has heard, though? I'd like to see his face if I—_

"Isn't that right?" asked Beth. 

"Not quite," Bendis understated. "Let's say that, er, you're not likely to be seeing too many pirates. Or, well…" She sighed. "Let's start again, all right? You're a Senshi. The first one in more than seven hundred years. You're supposed to fight for love and justice in the name of the Queen." 

"But fight _who_?" 

"Um." That was a good question, Bendis had to admit. There didn't seem to be any mysterious threats in the city at the moment. Well, maybe something would turn up. Artemis would probably know, but there was no hurry to explore that option. "You won't need to worry about that for a while," she temporised. "For now, we have to start your training. Getting you used to your abilities. That sort of thing." 

"Training?" Beth said, making a face. 

"You don't sound too happy about it," Bendis remarked, frowning. "Geez, I thought every kid _wanted_ to be a Senshi!" 

Beth sighed. "Oh, I suppose so. It's just…not what I'd been expecting. I mean, where are all the others? Where's the Queen? And I thought we got to fly in Colonial Vipers, or something." 

"Are you _sure_ that was 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi' you used to watch?" 

"Yes, why?" 

"Oh, no reason. Look, you're the first Senshi to be found. I expect the others will be showing up soon enough. Hell, Artemis may have found some of them already!" 

The moment she said the words, she regretted it. But it was too late to take them back. "Artemis?" Beth said, her eyes shining. "Wow. Where is he, anyway? When do I meet him?" 

"Soon, soon," Bendis said hastily. _No way, girl! You're __mine_ now! I'm not letting Artemis horn in on this! "He's away on a scouting mission at the moment," she added for good measure. 

"Oh, all right. So, what sort of training am I supposed to be doing?" 

"That's the spirit! Transform, and we'll get started." 

Beth pulled out her henshin wand and looked at it dubiously. At last, she seemed to make her mind up. "VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!"

- - -

It was different when she was Venus. She didn't have to worry about things. She was taller, stronger, faster; but that was only the beginning of it. All her senses seemed sharper. Before, the touch of the evening breeze on her face, her arms and her bare legs had been almost imperceptible; now, it was like a caress, cool and invigorating. The air seemed alive with smells: delicate, sharp, sweet, pungent, exotic, faint, overpowering…tantalising. Her hearing seemed magnified; she could hear her parents speaking inside almost as clearly as if she'd been standing next to them. And where she had sat nervously on this tree-branch before, holding on firmly to the trunk, now she stood upright, perfectly balanced, her arms hanging by her side, easily riding the motion of the branch as it swayed beneath her weight. She felt…she felt totally _alive_. 

"Oh, yes," she said. 

The cat looked up at her. It seemed uneasy, for some reason. What was there to be uneasy about? Everything was perfect. 

"Um, are you all right?" the cat said. 

"Fine," she said cheerfully. "What did you say your name was again?" 

"Bendis," the cat said huffily. 

"'Bendis?' What kind of name is that?" she wondered aloud. A moment later, she dismissed the thought again. Really, who cared? There were much better things to think about. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped off her branch and dropped lightly to the ground, a few metres below. She landed with barely a jar. Nothing to it. 

She heard a muffled squawk of outrage from above. Moments later, the cat raced down out of the tree and stood glaring at her. "What are you _doing_?" the cat shouted. 

She picked it up by the scruff of the neck, and held a finger to her lips. "Shh," she whispered. "Don't want my parents to hear, remember? Now, let's go train." 

With the cat in her arms, muttering indignantly, she bounded off. 

It was half past seven; the sun had set, and the twilight was deepening. On the north-western horizon, the planet Venus was just setting. The street-lights were coming on. There were not many people about, but enough that she had to duck out of sight occasionally. For a few minutes the impromptu hide-and-seek game was fun, but she quickly became bored with it. 

"How'm I supposed to get around without being seen?" she asked the cat at length. What was its name again? Oh. Right. 

"Try the roofs," Bendis suggested. 

Hmm. That might work. She eyed a nearby house for a moment, then took a short run and leaped. She made it, but only just; she had to catch hold of the guttering, dropping the cat for a moment, and pull herself up. She made a fair bit of noise doing it. Maybe the cat was right; she _did_ need to practise this. 

"Cat?" she whispered. "Where are you?" What was its name again? Bendis. Remember that. What kind of a name was 'Bendis,' anyway? 

"I'm down here, idiot!" came a low voice. 

Oh. Right. 

She dropped off the roof, found the cat, and picked her up once more. "Let's try that again," she said. Ignoring Bendis' protests, she stepped back and jumped. She made it this time; actually she overshot and skidded when she landed, making a lot more noise. Definitely more practice needed. This was fun, though. 

She was about to drop off the roof and try it again when the ca—when Bendis made her feelings felt by sinking her claws into Venus' arm. "Ow!" Venus hissed. "Stop that!" 

"_You_ stop!" Bendis shouted. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" 

"Practising," Venus said in an injured tone. "I need to get the hang of this, right?" 

"You're making too much noise! Somebody's going to hear you!" 

"Oh, come on. I wasn't _that_ loud—" 

"What the hell's going on out here!" 

The outside lights came on unexpectedly as a new voice spoke. Venus acted without thinking: she jumped once more, landing lightly and soundlessly on the roof. She crouched down and waited. Down below, she heard the man moving about and swearing. After a while he went back inside. 

"Now that's more like it," Bendis said. 

"But I didn't mean to do it that time!" Venus complained. "I just, y'know, did it." 

"Um, that's what I meant," said Bendis quickly. "You did it on instinct. That's what you need to practise! You see, when you stop to think it all out, you get all muddled. You tense up, trying to override what your body already knows how to do. Yeah, that's it! What you really need to do is just relax and, uh, just go with the flow!" 

It was odd, the way the cat was speaking, Venus thought. Hesitant, stammering at first, and then suddenly talking in a rush, almost gabbling. Almost as if she were making it up as she went along, in fact. But of course, that couldn't be right, could it? 

"So you're saying," she said slowly, "that I should just…relax, and let my instincts guide me?" That sounded easy enough. 

"Er, yes…" Bendis sounded nervous, all of a sudden. Venus wondered why for a moment, then shrugged inwardly. What did it matter? She had to follow her instincts, and her instincts said: Who cares why the cat sounds worried? 

She lifted her head and looked around, wondering what to try next. The office buildings a few blocks away caught her eye. Her instincts said: Go for it! 

With a wild whoop of glee, she picked up the cat (whatever its name was) and went for it. 

* * *

  

"That's the fourth report of alien invasions this evening," the duty officer said. 

Lieutenant Nishihara groaned. It was going to be one of _those_ nights, he could tell. Back when he'd joined 'P' Division, he'd been under the impression that a cop's duty was to fight crime. Instead he seemed to spend most of his time pandering to nutcases. 

"Any particular sorts of aliens?" he said, trying to sound interested. 

"Bright lights in the sky, loud noises, and a lot of shouting and screaming," the duty officer told him. "Apparently they shoot yellow rays out of their hands. One guy said there's actually two kinds: one human-shaped, and one small and furry." 

"Of course. No evening would be complete without small furry aliens. Anything else going on? Anything _serious_?" 

The duty officer checked her stat sheet. "Bunch of burglar alarms going off," she noted. "We sent an Opal over. All false alarms, probably a power surge or something. They were all in the same office block." 

Nishihara nodded, and made a note. They'd have to get the alarm systems checked tomorrow. 

"Oh, and Tsukamoto-san called to say his hedge is singing to him again." 

"Ah. Well, at least _something_ is going normally tonight." 

* * *

  

"I think," Bendis said with some difficulty, "that we need to make a distinction between _instincts_ and _impulse_." 

Venus did not reply at once. She was still lying flat on her back on the building's roof, gasping for breath. Thankfully, her face was no longer that alarming shade of purple. 

Bendis' own breathing had finally slowed enough for her to start lecturing. "That was the most ridiculous display I've ever seen. Supposing somebody saw you? What would they _think_?" 

"Oh…come on," Venus gasped. "It was…fantastic! And when that…police Opal…came buzzing around…" 

Bendis shivered at the thought. If the police had seen them, there would have been trouble. She remembered a close encounter with another Opal, in an alleyway the night before. Was Artemis right? Was somebody searching for them? 

"Oh, man, that was _so_ good!" finished Venus. 

"It was not! It was—" Bendis found that she couldn't think of a strong enough word for what it was. "What on earth possessed you to try and climb up here _that_ way?" she asked plaintively. 

"Hey, those window ledges were a good five centimetres wide," Venus protested. "There was heaps of room!" 

Bendis stared at her, the memory of Venus leaping up from ledge to ledge horribly vivid in her mind. "Heaps of room? You fell off three times!" 

"Well, it was good practice with the Chain Thing, wasn't it?" 

"It's supposed to be for fighting with, not using as a rope! And that's another point. You have _got_ to stop calling it the 'Chain Thing.'" 

"But—" 

"People are going to laugh at you if they hear you calling it that!" 

"But…well, 'Love-me Chain' is so…sappy-sounding," Beth insisted. "Come on, I'd just be so…embarrassed!" 

Bendis snorted. "What you _should_ be embarrassed about is those jumps of yours," she commented acidly. "Honestly, you humans have absolutely no idea how to do it right." 

Venus looked up at her, interested. "Oh yeah? How should I be doing it, then?" 

Bendis demonstrated a proper cat jump. After a few tries, Venus started to get the hang of it; and that encouraged Bendis to point out a few other points where (in her opinion) humans fell short. 

Venus turned out to be a quick study. The evening turned out to be quite a lot of fun, actually; except when Venus insisted on climbing the building three more times, to try out what she'd learned. A cat just couldn't win… 

* * *

  

Masao made sure that he arrived at the Olympus a good ten minutes early the next morning. None of the others were there. He sat down on a bench near the entrance and waited. 

Rather to his surprise, he found that he was actually rather looking forward to the day's "work." It was certainly different from his usual grind. And now that the initial shock had worn off, he was beginning to think that being _paid_ to take time off work and search for a _cat_ (of all things) might just be fun. 

Aoiro showed up a quarter of an hour later. He nodded politely to Masao and leaned back against a wall, hands in his pockets, without saying a word. After a few seconds, Masao shrugged mentally and ignored him. 

Mitsukai arrived ten minutes after that. She had a heavy-looking satchel over one shoulder. She didn't say anything either. She ignored Masao when he smiled in greeting. 

Finally, nearly an hour after the time Hiiro had ordered, Hiiro himself got there, Kuroi right behind him. Kuroi was lugging a bulky tote-bag; he looked hot and annoyed. 

As Hiiro came to a halt, he shot a glance at Aoiro, who gave a quick nod. Masao wondered why. 

"All right," Hiiro announced. "Has anybody checked upstairs yet?" They all shook their heads. "Good. Kitada, get on up there. Try and get in to see what's-her-name. Pappadopoulos. Same story as last night. Clear?" Masao nodded, bewildered. "Right. Go!" 

Masao went. He headed up the stairs at a run, remembering just in time to slow down before he ran into the reception area. He was already heading toward the young man at the desk—Ochiyo only worked in the afternoons, after school—when he noticed that something had changed. 

The missing-cat notice was itself missing. 

He took a second look to be sure. It wasn't there. He thought for a few seconds, then headed back downstairs. 

Hiiro looked up as he walked out of the building. "Well?" he inquired. "Is the poster gone?" 

Masao stared at him. "How did you know?" he burst out. 

"It seemed likely," Hiiro said laconically. 

"But—" 

"Look, that girl last night may have pulled it down herself. Or she may have left a note for her boss, who pulled it down this morning. All perfectly innocent, right?" 

"But—" 

"Or any one of a dozen other perfectly reasonable explanations. _Or_…there might be something funny going on. In which case we'll find out what. Clear?" 

"But how did you _know_?" demanded Masao. 

Hiiro sighed. "I didn't _know_ it'd vanish. But I thought there was a good chance. That girl at the desk last night—she hadn't noticed it. But _you_ saw it immediately when you went in yesterday morning…" 

He trailed off, frowning in thought. Then, with a sudden shake of his head, he seemed to came to himself. "In any case," he said crisply. "Either the poster was stuck up by one of the staff, or by someone else, probably a member of the gym. We'll have to check both possibilities. Ryozo, please—" 

Kuroi pulled open the tote-bag and began handing out bundles. Everyone got one except Masao, who watched, puzzled. They looked like packages of clothes. Gym clothes. "Wait a minute…" he began. 

"We'll be signing up as members," Hiiro went on, ignoring him. "You've all got identity details? Good. Not you, Kitada, you're already a member. Now, I'll work out a schedule for everyone. You go in, you get some exercise, and you have a casual chat with the other members. Find out if anyone remembers seeing the poster. Find out if anyone knows who put it up." 

"This could take forever," Aoiro protested. "They get a lot of people in here." 

"I know. Mitsukai, we'll get you a copy of the membership records; I want you to track names and usage patterns. We'll concentrate on the early-morning and late-evening crowd to begin with—that's when the poster's most likely to have gone up. We may have to rotate those times, though; all of you, be prepared for some odd hours." 

"But even so—" said Aoiro. 

"But even so, we'll do what we can. I know, there aren't enough of us to cover everyone; if necessary I'll get more people in. If it looks like this isn't just a wild-goose chase, that is. For now, there are a few other avenues to try as well… 

"Aoiro, I want you to be a journalist. Make an appointment, interview this Pappadopoulos woman. The other staff, too. Find out what you can about the place. There may be security cameras in the lobby, though I didn't see any; we may be able to check a tape of who put the poster up. If not, I want to know about demographics—who comes in when. Maybe we can narrow it down to a group of people who're most likely to have stuck the damn thing up." 

"Right." 

"For now, though, get upstairs and sign up as a member. Make sure you get a receipt for the fees." 

Aoiro sighed and left. 

"Okay. Ryozo—wait an hour or so, then go and sign up too. And shave, will you? Kitada—go get your regular gear, then head up and get some exercise. Ask a few questions. Try and be subtle. Mitsukai, you're to…" 

Masao trudged off, sighing. Maybe this wasn't going to be as much fun as he'd thought. 

* * *

  

School that day was torture. Beth had had far too little sleep the night before, and her arms and legs ached as if she'd been running a marathon. Actually, she supposed, in a sense she had. A vertical marathon. 

At least she'd been able to leave Bendis at home today. 

Beth still couldn't believe it. She was a Senshi? The idea seemed so ridiculous. It was the year 4200, not the Crystal Millennium! The Senshi were legends. People you learned about in history class, or characters on a viddy program. They weren't _real_. 

And yet…there was a talking cat back at her house. She had the henshin wand. She knew what would happen if she pulled it out and said the words. That was real. 

Maybe, if she was very very careful, she could manage to keep anyone from finding out about it. 

Morning classes went badly. She dozed off four times; the first three times she got away with it, rousing with a jerk as her head touched the desk, but the fourth, she was suddenly woken by the teacher's hand on her shoulder. That was bad enough; but everybody laughed at her, even Nanako. She thought she was going to die of embarrassment. 

It was better at lunch-time, for a while at least. The fresh air revived her somewhat, and she began to think she might be able to get through the rest of the day after all. She should have known better. 

She finished her lunch and moped around for several minutes, rubbing her sore legs and thinking dark thoughts about a certain cat. Then a much more pleasant thought occurred to her. Why was she dawdling around here when there so much better ways of spending her time? 

With a casual glance around to see if anyone was paying attention, she stepped into the bushes at the edge of the grounds and began to work her way silently around. She'd had a lot of practice at this, and she was an expert. Nobody ever saw her. 

A few minutes later, she reached her favourite spot. She knelt down and parted the leaves cautiously. Would they be in the usual place? Yes, there were Eitoku and Iku…she couldn't see Nanako at the moment, but that didn't matter. Her eyes were filled with Eitoku. 

Since the first time she'd seen him, months ago, she hadn't been able to keep her eyes off him. That serious face of his, so intense, so solemn; and yet when he smiled, it was like the sun rising, lighting up the whole world. She sighed happily. She saw him by day at school and by night in her dreams, and when he gave that smile, when she heard his voice, something inside her melted and she thought she might expire with passion. 

(That was a line from a poem she'd written. One of her better ones, she thought. She'd torn the poem up later, of course, in case her parents saw it. But still, it had been a good line.) 

He always seemed to hang around with Nanako and Iku, and for a while she had been worried that he liked one of them. But that was impossible. Nana-chan was nice, but she was such a bubble-head, always talking and laughing and gossiping; nobody as serious and intelligent as Eitoku could possibly want her. And Iku? She was so distant. Remote. Like a robot, almost. She hardly ever even talked. Beth snorted; what kind of girl was that for her Eitoku-kun? 

No, sooner or later he would see that he was wasting his time with those two. He would come to the one who really loved him. She knew it. She could see it in her mind's eye… 

_What have I been doing?_ he says. _How could I have been so blind? I have been searching for the woman of my dreams for so long…and yet when I turn around I find that the one I've sought has been there all along, waiting…_ _Oh, Eitoku,_ she answers, a tender smile on her lips, _How I've waited to hear you say those words. I always knew you'd come for me someday._ His strong arms encircle her. _My princess,_ he murmurs, _for so long my eyes have been closed…but now they are open, and I see the truth…you are my destiny, my Angel, and we are fated to be together, though all the world should try to keep us apart._ _Oh, my prince,_ she cries, the light of true love burning in her eyes, _a thousand years parted from you would be as nothing, set against a single hour in your arms. I am yours, now and forever…_ _My own heart,_ he says, and she whispers back, _My soul…_ And then his lips touch hers, and a golden light fills the world, and she is swept away on an endless sea of bliss— 

"I thought I'd find you here." 

Beth screamed. She couldn't help it; the unexpected voice, rudely jerking her out of her fantasy…the shock of discovery…Heart racing, blood thundering in her ears, she scrabbled back, trying to get away from…from… 

"Geez, are you all right?" said Nanako. "I didn't think I'd startle you _that_ much." 

"N-Nana-chan?" she stuttered, her heart still pounding. 

"I've been looking for you," Nanako said innocently. "C'mon over here. There are some people I want you to meet." 

She stepped out of the bushes, heading toward Iku and Eitoku. After a few steps she stopped, looking back at Beth expectantly. Over her shoulder, Beth could see the other two, staring in her direction. 

Beth wanted to scream. Her face was a blazing scarlet, she knew. This could not be happening to her. This was terrible. This was _disaster_. She was going to have to _meet_ him…_talk_ to him… 

He was watching her. She could not read his expression. There was absolutely no way out. 

She went to meet her doom. 

* * *

  

The Olympus was higher than most of the surrounding buildings, and from her office Itsuko could see a long way over the rooftops of Third Tokyo: all the way to the Archives Dome in the centre of the city. She stood looking out of her window, her hands clasped behind her back. She felt uneasy, and she was not sure why; and that made her all the more uneasy. Something was wrong, somewhere. But what? 

That missing-cat poster? No. She was pretty sure she'd caught that before it could become a problem. Thank goodness Ochiyo had called her when someone asked questions about it. It had been a mistake to put it up in the first place; but Artemis had been quite persuasive. Granted, they needed to find his missing great-granddaughter; but the risk was just too high. If people got inquisitive about cats with moon-markings, they might start asking other questions. And Itsuko could not afford too many questions. 

What, then? She could not pin it down, the reason for her worry; but there _was_ something, she could feel that much. Vague, obscure; distant as yet, barely perceptible; but slowly getting closer. The sense of danger. 

With a sigh, she turned away from the window. There were papers piled high on her desk, work that needed to be done, but she knew she'd never be able to concentrate in this mood. She knew what she needed to do. 

She touched the hidden contacts, and stepped through the secret door that swung open. After a moment's indecision, she removed her clothes and put on the miko robes that rested on a narrow shelf inside. She'd had to have them specially made, some years before; but they'd been worth the price. Here, alone, she could doff her false name and be Hino Rei again. For a few minutes. 

She knelt before the sacred fire and prayed. And for the first time in more than seven hundred years, she saw visions. 

Were they past or future? Memory, or prediction, or warning? She struggled to analyse what she was seeing; but the images danced, and there was no time to think. She could only watch. _The ghost of the dead queen, speaking to a kneeling figure._ _An army of crystalline monstrosities, tramping through the streets, killing all in their path._ _A light in the darkness—an eye?—and a sense of overpowering danger._ _A young dark-skinned girl, lying in a pool of blood._ _A man wearing gloves._ _Her office in the Olympus, in ruins._ _Herself, staring in shock at a shadowed figure sitting behind a desk._ _A young boy, holding a tabby cat with a full-moon mark on its forehead._

The visions faded. She found herself lying face-down on the floor, gasping for breath and sobbing. 

When she was able, she got up, changed out of her robes, and left the hidden room. She stood in the shower, with the water turned scorching hot, and still she shivered. She could only repeat to herself, over and over again: 

_It's beginning again. The Great Fall is beginning again._

* * *

  

Beth managed to escape from her new friends at the end of the lunch break. She had never had such an excruciatingly embarrassing time in her life. 

Eitoku had been most polite. 

He knew. She was certain of it. Nanako knew, so _he_ had to know. He must have known she was watching him all along. All along. She had been making a total fool of herself all along. 

He never even mentioned it. He was polite. Friendly, even. 

That made it worse, of course. If he had yelled at her, or laughed at her, she could have taken that. She'd have been upset, but she could have taken it. Instead, he treated her perfectly normally. 

For some reason, she found herself getting angry. How dare he? How dare he be _polite_ to her? He was supposed to be her prince! Her knight in shining armour! The man she loved with a passion like no other! How dare he be _friendly_ to her? 

She thought about that for a moment. Then she burst into laughter, startling everyone else in the class…including the teacher. The teacher was not amused. Very shortly afterward, neither was she.

- - -

She and Bendis trained again that night. She was tired and sore and depressed, but the cat managed to bully her into it. To tell the truth, after she changed to Sailor Venus, she didn't mind. 

Bendis continued to lecture her on ways where humans fell short of cats. To hear her talk, cats were the supreme intelligent life-form in the universe. Actually, Venus found herself thinking, Bendis might have a point. After all, which one of them spent all day stuck in a stuffy classroom, and which one got to lie around and get fed by willing humans? 

They spent a lot of time working on combat techniques. There was a lot to cover. McCrea Beth was no fighter; the very idea of physically attacking someone repelled her. As Venus, she was a lot stronger and faster, but no more skilled. 

Bendis thought that humans made indifferent fighters, at best. However, she had a lot of ideas about how things might be improved; and Venus was ready to try. Unfortunately, some of them didn't work too well—humans had a deplorable lack of claws, and their teeth were simply inadequate—and one or two of them were physically impossible; though it took a lot of effort to persuade Bendis of this. The cat was genuinely upset when Venus refused to practise pouncing on rats. Still, they made progress. Of a sort. 

Venus continued to have no luck with the Crescent Beam. This baffled both of them. It was supposed to be her most basic attack, but she couldn't get it to work at all. Whereas the Chain Th—the Love-Me Chain, supposedly a much more advanced attack, came to her effortlessly. For a while Bendis actually accused her of faking her problem, and it was only with great difficulty that she persuaded the cat that she wasn't. 

Another thing of which Venus had trouble persuading Bendis was that humans weren't naturally nocturnal. It was after midnight when she finally refused to do any more; and by that time she was too tired to run home, by rooftops or otherwise. To her relief, she managed to catch one of the late buses (having changed back from her Senshi form). 

As she walked toward her house from the bus-stop, she remembered what time it was, and groaned. "What are my parents going to say?" she wondered aloud. 

"They didn't say anything last night," Bendis pointed out. 

"They didn't _notice_ last night. They were out at the theatre, and I got back before they did. Tonight…" 

"I'm sure you'll think of something," said Bendis unhelpfully. 

Beth looked down at her. "I don't suppose I could just tell them the truth…?" she asked hopefully. At Bendis' look, she added, "No, I suppose not. They'd ground me for a decade." 

She sighed. "This is all your fault," she complained. "Everything's been going wrong since you arrived. First you follow me home from school, get me into dozens of accidents on the way, you drop a _piano_ on my head, and almost get me run over by a truck—" 

"Hey, the truck wasn't my fault!" protested Bendis. "You did that one on your own!" 

"But what if I'd gotten hurt?" asked Beth plaintively. 

"Oh, well…" Bendis somehow managed to look ashamed. "Maybe I got carried away. But it worked, didn't it?" 

"I don't know! You won't tell me why you were doing it!" 

"Er—" Bendis was saved from having to answer as they came in sight of Beth's house. The porch light was on, and Beth's father was clearly visible. "I wouldn't worry about that, if I were you," she murmured. "I think you've got other problems right now." 

"Oh, no…" 

Beth swallowed, and advanced to face the music.

- - -

It could have been worse, as it turned out. Her parents had somehow gotten the idea that she'd been out with a boy. Beth was able to truthfully confirm that there was a boy at school that she liked. And after all, she _was_ sixteen. 

So she ended up getting away with it. She had to listen to an extremely embarrassing lecture, and make some rather firm promises about hours, but she actually got away with it. This time. 

So it continued. Long hours of training in the evenings (but not as long as before), and exhausted days in school; and at school, forced association with Nanako and her friends. Including Eitoku. 

(She was definitely making progress there, at least; she could actually speak to him without blushing. Well, sometimes.) 

The long evening hours were beginning to make themselves felt in more than one way, unfortunately. She kept on falling asleep in class. She'd had detention twice already. Her homework was suffering, too—inevitably. Well, it hadn't gone too far yet, she hoped. But she was going to have to find a way to deal with it before things got too bad and the school did something disastrous, like calling her parents. 

But still…when she said the words, and the energy surged and the ripples of transformation swirled around her…then, none of it seemed to matter very much. She was Sailor Venus, a Champion of Justice. And what else counted? 

Then it all changed once more.

- - -

It was her fifth night of training. She was trying to get the hang of swinging from building to building on her Love-Me Chain (Bendis kept complaining that it wasn't cat-like, but even she had to admit that it looked totally cool) when she heard the gunshots. 

They sounded pretty close. She jumped across the gap to the next building, carefully doing it by the Bendis-approved method (crouch down, hindquarters up, gather yourself and spring, landing on your hands), and peeked down to the street, eleven stories below. 

_Oh, wow,_ she thought. _Real bad guys._

There were two of them, both armed. Her enhanced vision could make them out clearly. They were holding up the vehicle charging station across the street: one of them was standing guard outside, while the other, inside, pointed his weapon at the station attendant. The latter was a balding, middle-aged man. He looked terrified. 

She smiled. 

_Real bad guys. And they're all mine!_

She glanced up and down the street. Nobody else around…check. A quick look around the skyline. No Opals on patrol…check. And the face of the building below her. Plenty of handholds…check. 

Finally, behind her. Bendis not in sight…check. 

She took a deep breath. Grinned. And dropped over the side of the building. 

It was such a rush, going down this way. A bit like abseiling, she supposed, but better. Bouncing from ledge to ledge, almost without using her hands at all—just a touch here to steady her, a quick tug there to duck under the overhang—and then she touched down, silently, in the street below. 

The man outside was no threat, she decided. The man inside was a different matter. Unfortunately, the door was closed, so she couldn't just burst in and take him by surprise. (Surprise attacks were a good thing, Bendis had taught her.) 

_Hmm. I guess I'm going to have to be subtle._

- - -

Inside the checkout office, Asano Katai stared, almost hypnotised, at the gun pointed at his chest. At the barrel. It was like an eye, a dark, cyclopian eye. One that might wink at him at any moment. 

It was strange. He'd seen guns before. He'd even handled them. But he'd never realised before just how different one could look. When it was loaded. And when that blank, one-eyed gaze was staring at him. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "The safe's on a time-lock. I can't open it." 

"Oh, I think you can," said the man holding the gun. "I think you can, if you really, _really_ want to." 

He grinned, and adjusted his aim. "I bet you really want to right now, don't you?" 

Katai took a step back, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly. This was the end, he knew. He could see the man's finger, tightening on the trigger— 

Something subtle changed. A slight draught, perhaps. Or a shift in air pressure. He glanced automatically at the door, but it was still closed. Perhaps a window? 

The gunman raised his eyebrows. "Looking for a last-minute rescue?" he inquired mockingly. "Sorry. Not gonna happen. Only way out for you's in a box." He lifted the gun, took aim. "Or by opening that safe." 

"Or maybe there's a third way," said somebody. 

They both looked around, involuntarily moving in perfect sync. Across the room, standing on one of the component racks, was a young girl. 

Katai blinked. Wait a minute, she was wearing— 

"I am Sailor Venus!" the girl proclaimed. "A champion of justice, in the name of the Planet of Love! And you, buster—" she addressed the gunman with a rather unnerving grin "—are catfood." 

The gunman stared at her, mouth open. "Catfood—?" he began. 

He didn't have a chance to say any more. The girl—the impossible girl—leaped at him, a strange, almost feline leap. Katai almost thought he heard her hiss. She struck him in mid-air and the two hit the ground hard, rolling over and over. 

The gun went skidding across the floor, and Katai picked it up, dazed. When he looked back, the gunman was lying prone, and the girl was sitting on him, buffeting his face with her paws. Well, no. With her hands. Why had he thought 'paws'? 

She stood up, dusting off her hands in a self-satisfied sort of way. The gunman stirred, started to get up; she sighed, stepped back and threw a precise kick that caught him on the chin and flipped him half-way across the room. He did not stir again. 

She turned to Katai. "Are you all right?" she asked cheerfully. 

Katai stared at her. She had to be some kind of gymnast, he realised. And she really was wearing a Senshi uniform, or at least something pretty close to one. Didn't she realise how dangerous that could be? Dressing up was all very well for little kids, but for a teenager to try to emulate a legend was just asking for trouble. 

But she _had_ saved him. 

"Miss," he began. "You really shouldn't—" 

There were three sounds, so close together that they sounded like a single noise: 

A gunshot. A smash of glass. The whining of a ricochet, somewhere at the back of the office. 

The girl cried out, clutching at her arm. There was a long bloody streak from her shoulder half-way to her elbow. 

Another gunshot, this time a clean miss. Katai and the girl dove for cover. They had forgotten the second gunman. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds. The girl's eyes were wide with pain and shock. "Don't worry," whispered Katai. "I triggered the silent alarm when the first one came in. 'P' Division will be here in another minute or two." 

The girl's eyes narrowed. For some reason she did not like that. Then to his horror he saw her gather herself for a jump. He reached out to pull her back, but was half a second too late. She was going to get herself killed, and it was all his fault— 

Then she burst out of cover, whooping and grinning that manic grin, and she gestured and yelled the words, and Katai's preconceptions took a final body-blow. 

"VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!" she shouted. 

And the Chain came. The spiral chain, bright flashing gold, whining with energy and glittering with power. Bursting out through the shattered remains of his window. There was a sudden roar of bullets as the gunman outside opened fire. Then a single, terrified yell. Then silence. 

The young girl—Venus, Katai realised dazedly, she really was Sailor Venus—took a short run and jumped out through the broken window, head-first. She returned a few moments later, through the door, carrying the second gunman over her shoulder, and his weapon in her other hand. 

She dumped the man unceremoniously next to his companion. "He's only unconscious," she said reassuringly. "You might want to hold onto that gun, though. Until 'P' Division get here." 

Then she winked, and held up two fingers in a 'V' gesture. "Seeya," she said, and ran out. 

Katai stood there, staring after her, for a long time. Until 'P' Division got there.

- - -

"That was so cool!" Venus gloated. "You shoulda seen it, Bendis! They didn't stand a chance! They fell before the just wrath of the scion of the planet Venus," she intoned, "and—" 

"And one of them shot you, I see," said Bendis coldly. 

"What? Oh, that's nothing, just a scratch. Look, let me tell you what happened. You see, I—" 

"It's still bleeding," Bendis pointed out. 

"Huh? But—" Venus trailed off uncertainly. 

"Three centimetres to the left, and it would have hit bone. Then where would you have been? Have you ever heard of hydrostatic shock?" 

Venus stared at her. Her face was beginning to turn pale. 

"You should put a handkerchief over that scratch," Bendis said briskly. "That should stop it from staining your clothes when you change back. Your parents would notice that." 

Venus obeyed silently. It was only eight o'clock, but she followed the cat home as if she were exhausted. 

* * *

  

Itsuko dozed in her armchair, in her suite on the third floor of the Olympus building. She had been watching a long, rather pointless drama on the viddy, but around half-way through her eyes had simply given out on her. 

When she woke up, for a few seconds she thought she was still dreaming. The late news was showing; and what it was showing was pictures of a Sailor Senshi. 

"—This film taken from a hidden security camera at the charging station," a voiceover said. "The picture quality is not good, but we can see what appears to be a young girl dressed as one of the legendary Sailor Senshi of Queen Serenity's court—" 

The girl stood on top of a rack of equipment, shouted something, and threw herself at a man. There was a struggle. The girl seemed to be fighting in a most peculiar style. 

Itsuko watched carefully, frowning. Which Senshi was the girl meant to be? It was hard to tell from the blurred, black-and-white picture. _Don't do it, girl,_ she thought, _you'll only get hurt…_

There had been other people who'd tried to imitate the Senshi, over the years. None of them had lasted long. 

Then Itsuko saw the girl explode from cover, shouting silently, make a familiar gesture, and cast a Love-Me Chain at somebody out of the camera's range. 

The announcer was still speaking, saying something about unexplained phenomena, but Itsuko paid no more attention. When the clip began to repeat she switched the viddy to _record_ mode. 

_Oh, no,_ she was thinking. _It's starting again. It's starting all over again. The cycle isn't broken, it's going to happen all over again, and they don't know what's waiting for them!_

She strode into her bedroom and began to change into outdoor clothes. 

_I've got to find Artemis._

* * *

  

And somewhere, down in the endless darkness, a light awoke. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER TWO**

**Next:** The Senshi are back! The world reacts! But not all of them are applauding…


	4. Chapter 3: Senshi Fever

**What has gone before:** It's the year 4200. More than seven hundred years ago, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet-unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the mysterious evil. All over the world, civilisation fell. Then, one hundred years ago, a great renaissance began. Today the city of Third Tokyo is the centre of a new world order ruled by the Serenity Council (the "Serries"). 

Artemis survived the final battle, and now wanders the world with his young great-granddaughter Bendis, hoping that the Senshi will somehow be reborn once more. When Bendis accidentally speaks to a Serenity Council member, the Council begins a surreptitious hunt for her. Shortly after, Artemis and Bendis argue and split up. In a nearby school, Bendis finds that one of the students, McCrea Beth, is the new Sailor Venus: first of a new generation of Senshi. Bendis decides to handle it on her own, and begins to train Beth in a very eccentric style. Several days later Beth successfully captures a pair of gunmen staging a hold-up, but is shot in the arm in the process. Later, a security-camera recording of the event is shown on a national news program. 

Meanwhile Artemis asks an old friend to help find Bendis again: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, who somehow survived the final battle for Crystal Tokyo. Now powerless, she tries to avoid recognition, going by the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko, owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. However, Itsuko's efforts to help Artemis draw attention and a secret investigation of the Olympus begins. At the same time, she starts to have visions suggesting that the evil that destroyed Crystal Tokyo is beginning to move again. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER THREE  
Senshi Fever:  
Old Faces, New Threats and the Price of Fame**

The Council Chamber was not very large, or very grand. It was a simple room, with plain, undecorated walls. The only furniture was the table, shaped like a broken oval, and the chairs around it: fifteen of them, made of plain, varnished wood. This room was not designed for comfort. It was a place where people got things done. 

This was the room from which the world was ruled. 

The Serenity Council was in session. It was an emergency meeting; the urgency of the matter could be seen from the fact that most of them were dressed informally. Only two members were absent: the directors of 'A' and 'C' Divisions. But they were hardly required for this matter anyway. 

The chairman cleared his throat deliberately. He was a slight man, balding; he wore heavy black leather gloves. A polished brass plate set in the table in front of him was marked with the number '1'. His voice was calm and precise as he said, "You've all seen the recording, I assume." 

The others around the table murmured in agreement. In truth, it would have been difficult _not_ to have seen the recording. It was playing almost continuously on viddy channels all over Japan, and over much of the rest of the world as well. 

"The most important question, to begin with, is whether it's real or not," the chairman went on. "At the moment it's not possible to answer that for sure. I understand that there's a group working to enhance the recording, but I believe that may take some time…?" 

Another councillor nodded: the director of 'K' Division. "The Tenshin Institute have been passed a copy," she said. "Their image-processing lab does a lot of work for 'D' and 'S' Divisions, so they're discreet and reliable." The ID plate set in the table before her was numbered Twelve. 

"Do they have an estimate?" asked the chairman. 

"By the end of today, they think. Tomorrow morning at the latest." 

The chairman nodded slowly. "It will have to do," he said. "In the meantime, we must consider the implications if…what the recording shows is genuine. If the Sailor Senshi are returning." 

There was an uneasy stirring among the other councillors. "Aren't we overreacting?" wondered a tall thin man with bushy white hair. His ID plate was numbered Eleven. "This is probably a bad publicity stunt, or another impersonator. The real Senshi were killed when the palace fell in 3478, after all. The children's stories that they could return from the dead…you know who're the only ones that believe that nowadays." 

"True," the chairman admitted. "But still, we can hardly afford to ignore the situation. Public opinion will force us to pay attention, if nothing else." 

"But really—on such flimsy evidence—" spluttered Eleven. 

"Flimsy or not," put in a tall, stern-looking woman numbered Five, "it would be a tactical error to ignore the possibility. The possible consequences are just too severe—" 

"Oh, tactical possibilities," scoffed Fourteen, a stout woman with a broad, normally-cheerful face. "I'd expect that from 'W' Division. What are the tactical possibilities that we're panicking over a simple hoax?" 

"Quite good," said Five, her face expressionless. "Nevertheless—" 

"Enough," said the chairman sharply. They fell silent. "We are not going to panic. We will conduct a careful, thorough investigation into the incident, and if—I say _if_—there is any evidence for concern, then we will…have a whole new set of priorities, as you are well aware. We will need to take appropriate measures. What we are here to do now is to consider what those measures might be." 

There was a long pause. Then, "Surely it won't be a problem?" suggested a tall, dark-skinned man. "After all, they were all dealt with once before." His ID plate was numbered Four. 

"'Dealt with,'" the chairman said with a chuckle. "I like that. But remember the cost of that dealing. The matter cannot be considered other than a failure. Crystal Tokyo was destroyed around them, and still they did not give in; they had to be brought down, one by one. And in the end, all for nothing. It would be best if we could avoid a repetition of that." 

"This could even work in the opposite direction," suggested Twelve. "It could short-cut so much…" 

"Oh, really," said Fourteen. "You can't mean—" She broke off suddenly; her eyes widened. "You do," she said. 

Around the table, heads turned as the councillors considered the idea. None of them seemed displeased. 

"Back then, they were easy to find," mused number Ten, a sweet-looking old lady. "Everyone knew _who_ the Senshi were. They were public figures. These days, things could be more difficult." 

"We do have one lead," pointed out another man, numbered Three. "The investigation that 'S' Division is carrying out. An investigation," he added dryly, "that has suddenly acquired a whole new urgency." 

"Indeed," said the chairman. "How is that proceeding? Have there been any results? Do you need any further resources?" 

Three shook his head. "No results as yet. We've had a great many responses from our agents, but it'll take some time to follow them up. Frankly, I wouldn't hold out much hope. Finding a human being can be hard enough. Finding a single cat that could be anywhere in Third Tokyo…that's almost impossible." 

"It's not a cat," pointed out Four. "It's a Moon Cat. There's a difference." 

Three shrugged. "Cat, Moon Cat…what does it matter? Unless it speaks, there's no way to tell the difference anyway." Another councillor started to say something, but he waved her silent. "Oh, I know. There's a moon-mark on its forehead. But we can't emphasise that too much, or our agents will realise what we're looking for. And who notices cat-fur markings, anyway?" 

"An interesting problem," mused the chairman. "We don't dare tell 'S' Division exactly what they're looking for…but without knowing that, they're much less likely to find it." 

"The mark puzzles me," said Twelve. "I thought the Moon Cats were supposed to have crescent-moon marks. But we were told this cat's mark is a plain circle…?" 

There was a moment's silence. Three nodded thoughtfully, but offered no explanation. 

"How sure are we that there is a Moon Cat at all?" demanded number Nine, a younger woman, at last. "We only have Fifteen's word for it, and he's…not exactly reliable." Several councillors glanced at one of the two empty seats. 

"Fifteen may be junior—" began the chairman. 

"I think we can be absolutely certain that the cat is real," put in Five suddenly. "After all, suddenly we have a Senshi to deal with as well. And we know that Senshi and Moon Cats go together." 

"Circular reasoning!" snapped Nine. "The Senshi is real; therefore the cat is real. The cat is real; therefore the Senshi is real. It could still be a hoax, remember." 

Five shrugged. "Well. True." 

Number Eight, an inoffensive-looking middle-aged man, said thoughtfully, "It's a pity we can't initiate Fifteen. We'd be able to get a lot more out of him then." 

The chairman sighed. "It would help, yes. Especially since he runs 'C' Division. But we can't afford the risk. His psych rating suggests he might not survive the process. Besides, we need to keep a couple of uninitiated in the Council, and he and Thirteen are all we have." 

There was a brief silence as they all remembered their own initiations. Then Fourteen said, "We can at least narrow down 'S' Division's search. Where's the charging station in that recording?" 

Nine consulted her notes. "Just south of Tomoe Park," she said. 

"So the Senshi is probably based somewhere around there, and the Moon Cat as well." 

Three nodded. "Quite possible—though we can't afford to take that for granted, of course. But I'll arrange to have the search intensified in that area." 

The chairman nodded. "Good." He looked over to number Nine. "You'll be examining any results 'P' Division find?" She nodded. "Very well. Please pass them on to 'S' Division as well. I think 'S' may as well coordinate the investigation." Nine looked irritated, but nodded again. 

"So," said Five crisply. "I take it that our current priorities are to find the Senshi and the cat, if they exist. But then what? Simply monitor them? Or should we try to draw them out into the open? That could be a popular move with the public—" 

"Too risky," replied Three. "What if they decided they wanted a new Crystal Kingdom? After all, we're supposed to be ruling 'in the name of the Queen, until Her return.' It might be difficult to tell them 'no.'" 

"Don't be absurd," said Eight. "One Senshi, trying to rule alone? Anyway, this is Sailor Venus. The only one with a claim to the throne would be Serenity's heir—and that's Sailor Moon." 

"Not necessarily—" began Three. 

"That's enough," said the chairman wearily. "The point is moot, in any case. We need more information to be able to make any kind of decision. I think we should reconvene when the enhanced recording is available, and discuss it again then. In the meantime"—he glanced at Eight—"you could consult the Archives. A better idea of what we're facing would be useful." Eight nodded. 

"Very well then. We'll meet again tomorrow morning." He sighed. "I'll make some kind of press announcement later today. That should buy us a little time." 

They all nodded. Most of them looked satisfied. As they filed out, the chairman caught Twelve's eye. She blinked, but remained behind as the others filed out. "What's up?" she asked when they were gone. 

"Our biggest problem will be finding the Senshi," the chairman said. "If she—or they—exist, that is." 

"Yes, of course." 

"There is one traditional method of drawing out Sailor Senshi," observed the chairman. After a moment he added, "We may need to adopt it." 

"Traditional method? But what—" Twelve stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened. "You don't really mean—" 

"Indeed. Vitrimorphs take some time to construct, don't they? So you'd better start as soon as you can. We may need a number of them, if we really do have to deal with Sailor Senshi." 

Twelve stared at him in horror. "You can't really mean to—" 

She froze suddenly. Her face went taut; her eyes seemed to glaze over. She gave a little gasp in what might have been pain. The chairman watched patiently. 

Just as suddenly, the spell ended. Twelve sagged back, breathing hard, and wiped sweat from her forehead. "Yes," she said. "I understand." She nodded shakily. "I'll need some…raw materials." 

"Talk to 'J' Division," the chairman suggested. "I'm sure they have plenty of warm bodies that nobody will miss. Jailbait, and the like." 

She nodded again, and left abruptly. The chairman watched her go, then looked down and studied his gloved hands for some time, his expression unreadable. 

* * *

  

Itsuko stifled a yawn as she turned the corner. She had never realised before just how many alleyways there were in the central district of Third Tokyo. Or how much they could resemble one another, especially when all she had to go on was a vague description. This was either the fourteenth or fifteenth one, she had lost count. 

She flashed her torch around. No people in sight; so far, so good. "Artemis?" she called softly. "Are you there?" There was no reply. 

She took a few more steps, holding her breath. The torch in her hand was a comforting weight; but the weapon in her other hand, the one she kept in her pocket, was more comforting. Poking around in dark alleys at night was about as risky a way of spending her time as she could think of. But anybody who tried to jump her would find her ready. 

Back in the twentieth century, guns had been almost unobtainable in Japan. How the times had changed. 

"Artemis?" she called again. No answer. Damn. She turned to leave the alley again, and— 

"Itsuko?" said a startled voice. "What are _you_ doing here?" 

She whirled, startled, automatically beginning to pull out her weapon. Then she saw him, and relaxed. Artemis stood a few metres away: a white cat with the moon on his brow, his head poking out of a pile of decaying old cartons. 

"About time," she grouched. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" He started to answer but she didn't give him the chance. "No, never mind that. Artemis, you've got to come with me. Something's happened." 

"Bendis has shown up?" he said eagerly. 

"No. Well…maybe. Look, you've got to see this for yourself. I'm not sure I believe it myself yet, but—oh, just come on!" 

She reached forward, picked him up without ceremony—ignoring his startled yelp of protest—and ran out of the alleyway, her tiredness forgotten. As she ran she heard Artemis mutter, "You sure your name isn't Minako?" She snorted. 

Her car was a few blocks away. They drove back to the Olympus, making good time. Outside the central business district the streets were almost empty. A few minutes later they pulled to a halt in Itsuko's private spot in the underground car park, two levels below ground. 

And then, up in her private suite, Itsuko showed Artemis the recording. 

"Oh, no," said Artemis when it was finished. "That poor girl…we've got to find her, Itsuko!" 

"You think it's real?" inquired Itsuko. 

"You notice how she was moving? The way she fought? It's real, all right," Artemis snapped. "Bendis has been busy with that girl." He sighed. "How on earth did she manage to _find_ her? That young idiot…two years old and she thinks she knows everything. Heaven knows what she's been telling the girl…" 

Itsuko nodded slowly. "Enough to get her into trouble, at least," she noted. "You saw she got shot?" Artemis nodded. "Hard to tell how badly she was hurt. I'm guessing it was just a scratch; she looked all right when she did the Love-Me Chain. And…" She hesitated. "That's odd," she added thoughtfully. "That's quite an advanced attack for a beginner." 

"Not necessarily," said Artemis, shaking his head. "People develop at different speeds. It's a matter of aptitudes. Minako found the Crescent Beam easy, but it took her a long time to develop the Chain. But there's no reason why this girl should take the same route." 

Itsuko eyed him. "You never said that before," she accused. 

"It never came up before. But you must remember how Princess Usagi had a whole different repertoire from her mother." 

"Mm…yes." Itsuko grinned for a moment, remembering pink sugar hearts, then bit her lip. "Artemis—it's going to start all over again, isn't it? Once one of them shows up, there'll be more." 

He nodded, and she winced inwardly. The Senshi were coming back; the great cycle was turning once more. Ultimately that might be very good for the world, she knew. 

But for herself it would be different. It would be hard, very hard. Knowing that they were out there, using their powers, fighting…just simply _being_ what they were. 

Knowing that she'd once been a part of that. And that she couldn't any more. Because she was cut off. Powerless. 

Neutered. 

Artemis was looking at her sympathetically. He understood, she knew. It didn't make it any easier. She had had so much—she had _been_ so much—and what was she now? An old, old woman, for all her eternal youth; a woman who had seen too much, lived too long…who was tired of it all. She hadn't really been _alive_ for more than seven hundred years; she'd just been marking time. Standing still, going nowhere through all the centuries, as civilisation fell and rose around her. Waiting, hoping that somehow, if she endured for long enough, somehow things might change, that she might be able to get back what she had once had. 

"I'm sorry," she said softly to Artemis. "You were right." 

"Itsuko—" Artemis began. 

"No. You were right. I told you I'd given up hope, that it couldn't start again. That it was all over. But you never accepted that, did you?" She shook her head. "Even when you had no reason to believe, you never gave up. I thought I was being realistic. Maybe I should have had the courage to dream a little." 

Now, things were changing indeed; and she saw that her time was gone. The role was there once more, but for others to play. She would be banished to the sidelines, to watch while a newcomer took her place. It was a bitter pill to swallow. But then— 

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Artemis suggested. "After all, I'm not exactly the one who _succeeded_, either. Maybe if I'd spent a little less time preaching about how the good days would come again, and more time actually searching…" He gave a cat shrug. 

But then, she'd swallowed a lot of bitter pills over the years, hadn't she? Itsuko drew a deep breath. She'd been the strong one, the stubborn one, the one with the fire in her heart. The one to stare unflinchingly at the truth, however dark it might be. And…and just maybe… 

Just maybe it didn't have to be so dark. Maybe she _could_ still have a role to play, she thought with sudden hope. Because she'd been there. She had the experience. She might be able to help them, guide them. Give advice. If there was to be a new Mars, she might be able to help with the training. After all, she knew the ropes. 

Maybe she could still be useful— 

She laughed quietly. "Maybe this, maybe that…or maybe it's simply that the time had come." She shrugged. "We just have to deal with it the best we can, I suppose. It's going to be very hard for them, you know," she added, shaking her head. "The new ones, I mean. Trying to be Senshi in this day and age. They're going to be mobbed." 

"I know," Artemis replied. "It's going to be like it was for you, back when you revealed your identities to the world. You remember, when the crowds invaded the Hikawa shrine—" 

"Don't remind me," said Itsuko ruefully. "But that's not what I meant. It's more that—well, people remember the Crystal Millennium as a Golden Age. Hell, they almost worship the memory of Queen Serenity—" 

"Some of them do worship her," said Artemis softly. 

She groaned. "I know. I try not to think about it. I suppose it was inevitable, but oh, Artemis, poor Usagi-chan! She hated all the adulation, but at least they never did _that_ while she was still alive." She shook her head. "But what I was trying to say was…the sort of people who'd worship Serenity, how are they going to react to this? What the newcomers go through…is going to be _nothing_ like what we did." 

"You think there's going to be trouble?" 

"Oh, I'm sure of it. But there may not be much we can do to prevent it. We'll simply have to keep an eye on things…and do what we can to help them deal with it. 

"In the meantime…" She took a deep breath. "What do we do now?" 

"Now…we go out and we find that girl and save her from my crazy great-granddaughter before something horrible happens." Artemis snorted a chuckle. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss that kit." He sighed. "Her…even her father…and Diana, and Luna. Gods, I miss Luna." 

"She died bravely," said Itsuko softly. 

"So she did. But she still died. And we can't afford to sit around reminiscing, or that girl out there might die bravely too." Artemis' tone became grim. "If the Senshi are reappearing, you can bet there's a reason. There'll be work for them to do, and probably not much time to get them ready for it." 

He looked up at Itsuko. "You know what's probably coming, don't you?" 

She nodded. "Yes. And there's no 'probably' about it. I've seen it." And she told him about her vision in the fire. 

"Well," he said at last. "Could be a lot better. But it could be a lot worse, too." She raised an eyebrow and he added, "You didn't see us all dying, at least." 

"I saw someone die," she said. 

"You don't know that for sure. It could have been…no, never mind that now." He paused, thinking. "All right; the Great Fall is coming again. We always knew that could happen. But it doesn't change anything; we still have to find the girl, as quickly as possible." 

"Right. I'm not sure what I can do, but—" 

"Play that recording again." Itsuko did so, and the cat watched intently. "How old would you say she is?" 

"Hard to tell. Fifteen…maybe sixteen." 

"Right. It's something to go on, anyway. We know the rough area where she appeared; that, and her age, narrows down the list of schools to check." Artemis yawned. "What time is it? Oh, great. Well, I'll grab two or three hours of sleep, and then get moving." 

Itsuko raised an eyebrow. "Not just yet," she said. "There's one very important thing you have to do first." 

"Oh? What?" 

"Artemis, you just spent the last few days in an alley. Do you have any idea what you smell like? I'm not even going to _mention_ fleas." She gave him a distinctly nasty smile. "It's time for a bath…" 

* * *

  

The school was abuzz with rumours when Beth arrived. Most students had not heard about the mysterious appearance of a Sailor Senshi the night before—the news had broken quite late—but they soon made up for the lack of facts with vivid imagination. When Beth herself walked in the gate she was intercepted by Nanako, who solemnly told her that a group of five Senshi had defeated an armed terrorist uprising, and that Queen Serenity herself was expected to be announcing plans for a renewed Crystal Millennium later that day. 

Beth blinked at that, not quite sure how to respond. She grew steadily more incredulous as, over the next ten minutes, she heard six more versions of what had happened. None of them made much sense. Nanako's was actually one of the least outré; others featured time machines bringing the historical Senshi forward in time; various species of aliens; secret cloning laboratories; and (her personal favourite) the personal intervention of one or more kami to restore the dead Senshi to life. 

Things settled down a little once classes started; but at lunch break, the rumour mills swung into full force once more. A few students who had smuggled pocket radios into school—strictly against the rules—were mobbed when news bulletins came on. Unfortunately, the newsies had little new to report. Dr. Fukuda, the chairman of the Serenity Council, had made a speech appealing for order and promising an immediate investigation, pointing out that the whole incident could easily be a hoax. 

Many of the students listening booed at that announcement, to Beth's secret delight. To her surprise, though, a number of others only nodded in apparent satisfaction. _Did they __want_ it to be a hoax? she wondered, shocked. 

Nanako was one who booed. "The Serries've got no more idea of what happened than we do!" she exclaimed. "Do they just really expect us to sit back and wait and see?" 

"What else can we do?" pointed out Beth. 

"That's beside the point!" Nanako spluttered indignantly. "How can they suggest this is all a hoax? Didn't you see the recording?" 

"Um, no," said Beth truthfully. She'd had a slightly better view than a recording. Her arm still ached from the gunman's bullet. She rubbed it absently. At least her sleeves covered the wound. 

Nanako flushed. "Well, neither did I," she admitted. "But my father did!" 

Beth stared at her. "You knew all about the recording? So what was all that you were telling me this morning about terrorists?" 

"Oh, never mind that," Nanako said, flushing a brighter red. "The point is, he saw it! And _he_ thinks it must be real!" 

"Oh, yes," put in Eitoku. He was one who hadn't booed. "That settles everything, of course. Come on, Nana-chan, the chairman's right. Of course it's going to be a hoax! Things like…like Sailor Senshi…just don't _happen_ any more!" 

"Yes they do! You'll see! Anyway, I bet you didn't see the recording either!" 

"I saw it," said Iku. 

There was a moment's silence. 

"What?" said Eitoku. 

"What?" said Nanako at the same moment. "You _saw_ it?" 

Iku flushed. "I was just going to bed," she said. "I saw it when the news report came on." 

Beth stared at her, horrified. What if Iku had recognised her? Then it struck her: sooner or later, _everyone_ was going to see that recording. Everyone was going to know who she was. She felt like screaming. Why, oh why hadn't she noticed that security camera and…and broken it, or something? She held her breath, waiting for Iku to answer. 

"There wasn't much to see," Iku said, looking embarrassed. "Just a blurry picture of a girl in a fuku. She got shot in the arm, and then she did something and this…kind of spiral ray appeared." 

"There, you see!" burst out Nanako triumphantly. "That proves it!" 

"No it doesn't!" returned Eitoku. "She said a blurry picture! Anyone could fake that!" 

Beth sighed to herself. A blurry picture? She could live with that. She looked back at Iku, a little curious. That was the longest speech she'd ever heard the girl make. And she seemed so…disconcerted at being the centre of attention. 

Her arm twinged and she rubbed it again. The motion caught Eitoku's eye. "What's the matter, Beth-san?" he asked, apparently glad of the distraction (he'd been losing the argument badly, overmatched by Nanako's ability to say three words for every one of his). "You've been rubbing that arm all day." 

"Oh, nothing," Beth said, startled. She found herself blushing, rather to her annoyance. _He noticed me!_ "I just knocked it on a door, that's all." 

Nanako laughed. "That's because you walk around in a daydream all day." Eitoku and Iku laughed too, and Beth looked away, biting her lip. So she never noticed it when Nanako suddenly frowned, looking thoughtfully at her arm. 

"Anyway," Nanako said after a slight pause, "it must be Sailor Venus. She's the one with the Love-me Chain attack. And she was the first Senshi to appear, back in the Old Days." 

"That doesn't mean anything…" Eitoku was quick to argue. The battle was soon joined again. Beth listened to them bickering, a half-smile on her lips. Yes, they argued all the time; but it was kind of fun to listen to them. Fun to be with them. Fun to have friends… 

She glanced at Iku again. Iku was watching the two of them too, wearing an almost identical half-smile. Beth raised her eyebrows. Now what did _that_ mean? 

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch break. Nanako and Eitoku reluctantly abandoned their argument (both of them looked at the same time disappointed and relieved) and the four started back across the fields. As they walked Nanako looked at Beth, grinned and said, "At least you look a bit more wide-awake today, Beth-chan! You've been half-asleep for the last few days." 

_Too many late nights training,_ Beth though with a mental sigh. "Oh, I managed to get an earlier night last night," she said casually. That was true enough. Bendis had insisted; and after she realised just how close she'd come to being seriously hurt, Beth had been glad to agree. 

Nanako only nodded, looking thoughtful. As they entered the classroom, Beth relaxed with a sigh. Actually, it was a relief to be able to concentrate for a while on something _other_ than what she'd done the night before. 

* * *

  

Lieutenant Midori whistled cheerfully to himself as he walked through the foyer of 'S' Division headquarters. He was jingling the loose change in his pocket and trying to decide where to go for lunch as he pushed the door open and stepped outside. He paused to hold the door open for a woman who was going in. 

He stayed there, holding the door open for longer than was strictly necessary, so that he could watch her as she stepped through. She was certainly worth a second look. Tall, almost as tall as he was, and exotically beautiful, with a magnificent mane of black hair. 

He checked the ID card clipped to her lapel as she stepped past him. It was purely an automatic reflex—he was a security officer, after all—but it also gave him her name: Fumihiko Sadako. He smiled, and started to step forward to speak to her— 

She turned her head and looked him in the eye, and…something strange happened. A moment's giddiness, perhaps? Or perhaps it was something about her expression. Quite suddenly, Midori realised that he didn't want to speak to her after all. He nodded politely, closed the door behind her, and went on his way. Within ten minutes, he had forgotten he had ever seen her. 

One last memory remained: the sight of her hair. Extraordinary. Such a rich, deep black; but when the sunlight caught it, just for a moment, it had the most amazing green highlights.

- - -

She checked her ID card as she walked calmly onward, putting the young officer from her mind. The card looked perfectly in order, but if she tried to swipe it through a card-reader, alarms would ring all over the building. She wasn't worried about it, though. She had the situation covered. 

For a moment, the name on the card caught her eye: Fumihiko Sadako. She shrugged. _What's in a name?_ And she'd had so many names. 

She watched the probability flows, timing her footsteps carefully. Just as she reached the next door, it opened and a pair of officers came out. One of them held the door for her, of course. She nodded curtly as she stepped through. 

So it went, door after door. Always with the most natural-seeming timing. When she needed to catch an elevator up to the ninth floor, there happened to be a clerk going the same way; and she smiled in thanks as the young woman pushed the button for her. 

Who needed to be able to teleport? Who needed a Time Staff? This way worked just fine, too. 

Fifteen minutes after Midori let her into the building, she was in a cubicle at the rear of 'S' Division's main Operations room, standing in front of an unlocked computer terminal. The keyboard operator had stepped out for a coffee; she had three minutes and eleven seconds before he got back. She typed quickly. Property records; historical files; name of property: Olympus Gymnasium. She studied the display for a few seconds. Yes, the trail of ownership was clear enough, if anyone knew to look. She typed again. A few critical pieces of information were changed: a serial number here, a date there. That would buy a little time. Then, without showing the least bit of haste, she cleared the log of what she'd been doing and walked away from the terminal. Five seconds later the terminal's operator got back, holding a steaming plastic cup. Seeing nothing unusual, he resumed his work. 

Fumihiko Sadako retraced her steps and walked calmly out of 'S' Division into the bright sunshine. On the street outside, she bought a newspaper and read an analysis of the previous night's Sailor Senshi incident with interest. "About time," she murmured to herself, and walked on. Nobody noticed her. That was the way she preferred it. 

* * *

  

Fukuda Ikemoto, chairman of the Serenity Council, paid a call to the 'M' Division offices that afternoon. 

Each member of the Council managed one or more government divisions. They were allotted more or less by seniority. However, because the chairman had so many other responsibilities, he was traditionally only given 'M' Division, the smallest and least significant of the government departments. 

At least, that was the theory. 

He spent some time handling routine paperwork and speaking with his chief operations officers. It didn't take long; there wasn't much to do, there never was. Really, 'M' Division didn't warrant being a separate arm of the government at all. It was the Council's Maintenance arm, responsible for the manufacture and maintenance of all the premises, vehicles, machines, tools, stationery and other specialty equipment used by the other branches of the government. It was a glorified factory and accounting organisation, that was all. 

At least, that was the theory. That was what everyone was told. 

The chairman finished his paperwork, bid a cheerful farewell to his secretary, and caught the elevator down to the car-park. As the doors closed, though, he slipped an ID card into the maintenance-key slot. The elevator car did not stop at ground level; it went down a lot further. 

There was a security checkpoint at the bottom. The guards all knew him by sight; but still, they covered him with their weapons as he bent over the retinal scanner. 

Finally the machine blipped and he could go on, into the inner sanctum. Into the _real_ 'M' Division. The secret for which all the rest was just a cover. The Serenity Council's hidden think-tank. 

And here, at the centre, was the chief thinker. One of the Council's greatest assets. M in person. 

(The name was partially a joke, he recalled, like Security's mythical 'Q' Division. Wasn't there some ancient book or viddy in the Archives? Some kind of spy story? Well, it didn't matter.) 

M looked up with as he came in, then returned to studying a complex piece of equipment. The chairman looked at it briefly, then away again with a shrug. "Busy?" he inquired. 

M grunted and said, "What do you want?" 

"I have a little job for you. We need some of the scanners in 'S' Division's Opals refitted—" 

There was a sigh from M, and the chairman nodded. The Opals were flying patrol vehicles: fast, sturdy, utterly reliable, and one of the most valuable assets that 'P' and 'S' Divisions had. And they had been invented here. The field generator that drove them was one of M's greatest triumphs: a tiny unit, less than half a cubic metre, that spun a delicate web of interlaced fields so complex that few others could follow even the theory behind them. 

But they were only one of the technical wonders that had come out of this room. Much of the equipment used by 'D' Division—the Diplomatic Corps, who also doubled as Japan's external-espionage agency—had been developed by M. To say nothing of some of the innovations for the War department. 

The scanners were another matter. There was nothing terribly secret about them, and this refit could have been handled by someone a little less rarefied than M. But then, if it was done through M, there were no questions to be answered. 

"What do you need?" asked M wearily. 

The chairman smiled, and explained. He didn't say that he wanted a Senshi-detector, of course. There was no point in letting even M know too much. But it wasn't too hard to describe his requirements in broad enough terms that nobody could have worked out what he was really after. After all, he _was_ a politician. 

M sighed again when he stopped talking. The chairman waited for the expected protest at the waste of time, but none came. Well, good. Perhaps M had gotten the message at last. You didn't question the chairman's orders. You just obeyed them. 

"It will take a few days," M said after a moment. "I'll have to do a little figuring. I'll give you a better estimate by tomorrow morning." The chairman nodded and M added, "Is that all?" 

"Yes." The chairman turned to go, saying over his shoulder, "I'll expect your report by ten o'clock." Looking away again, he started briskly toward the door. 

"I've made up a new batch of the salve," M said to his back. 

The chairman froze. 

"It's right here," M said softly. Almost involuntarily, he turned, to see M indicating a broad, shallow bowl covered with a cloth. 

He stopped hesitating. As M removed the covering, he gingerly took off his gloves, staring expressionlessly at the horrors beneath. The smell filled the laboratory almost immediately. Neither of them showed any reaction. After a few seconds, the chairman lowered what had once been his hands into the thick gel. He hissed through his teeth, then sighed softly in relief. 

He remembered his initiation into the Council. He'd struggled at first. The price had been very high. But the memory was distant, unimportant. 

"You should do this more often," said M remotely. "There's no need to be stoic about it." 

"Perhaps," the chairman said. "If you could develop a formulation that doesn't decay so fast—?" As M's headshake, he shrugged. "So. It doesn't matter, then." 

He drew the gloves back on without a wince, turned, and started out of the room without ceremony. He could feel M's eyes on his back, and could not resist smiling to himself. After all, they both knew what the guards at the end of the corridor were really there for. M was far too useful to the Council to ever be allowed to resign. 

_Sometimes it's hard to be a genius,_ he thought ironically. 

* * *

  

Bendis was waiting anxiously when Beth got home. Beth suppressed a sigh when she saw the cat. _Don't I ever get any time off?_ she wondered. She didn't say it out loud, though. She was pretty sure she knew what Bendis' answer would be: something long-winded about duty. For all her disparaging comments about Artemis, Bendis could be pretty fanatical herself. 

(And what was it between her and Artemis, anyway? When Beth raised the subject, Bendis always got very evasive. It was almost as if she wanted to avoid him. But why? This was _Artemis_, for heaven's sake! The idea of meeting someone who had actually known Queen Serenity made Beth's head spin. But Artemis had even known the Queen's _mother_—Serenity the First. He had actually _lived_ back in the days of the _Silver Millennium_! So why did Bendis—) 

"About time," the cat grumbled. "I thought you'd never be back." 

"You always say that," Beth pointed out. 

Bendis glared at her. "You try being cooped up in this house without anything to do all day," she muttered darkly. 

"Oh." Beth thought about it. "But I thought you just, well, lie around and sleep all day, or chase mice, or…" She trailed off uncertainly. Somehow she had the feeling that she was in a lot of trouble, though she was not quite sure why. 

Bendis shot her a venomous look. "Are you under the impression that I'm an ordinary _housecat_ or something?" she snarled. "Perhaps you'd like me to go play with a ball of _string_ or something…?" 

"Er…" Beth began. She had a sudden vision of Bendis playing with a ball of string. It was a very endearing image, but she had the impression that it might be wisest not to share it. "Sorry," she said, flushing. 

"I should hope so," said Bendis imperiously. "_Mice_! Look, we need to talk about last night. How's your arm, anyway? And we—" 

"Oh, right—they were all talking about it at school," Beth burst out excitedly. "Apparently there was a security camera in the charging station. I'm on the viddy! Everyone is watching me! This is so…so _weird_!" 

"What?" Bendis stared at her, aghast. "Oh, no. This is terrible. Artemis is going to kill me—" She broke off. "Ah, I mean, Artemis is going to be pretty annoyed. When he gets back, that is. From his mission." 

"Oh?" said Beth after a moment, filing the slip away for later contemplation. "Why? What's wrong with being on the viddy?" 

"You don't understand," Bendis told her. "If the Council—" 

She cut off suddenly as there was a knock on the door. "Beth?" called a voice. "Who's in there with you?" 

"Oops," muttered Beth. She opened the door. "Hi, Mom. Nobody's in here." 

"Oh." McCrea Helen stepped into the room and took a rather obvious look around. Inwardly, Beth groaned. She'd had to pretend to have a boyfriend to explain why she was out so late at night, and her mother was clearly nervous about the whole idea. 

Seeing nobody else there, she headed back out, pausing to stare at Bendis for a moment. "I hope you're feeding that cat properly," she said. "Remember, if you want a pet, you pay for it yourself." 

"I know, Mom," Beth said patiently. Inwardly, she groaned. That 'pet' remark was going to make Bendis explode, she knew. She was going to have to listen to cat lectures for _hours_. 

Then, with sudden delight, she realised that she didn't have to listen to a thing. Smiling, she followed her mother out before the cat could say a word. She closed the door behind her. 

They walked into the living room. Helen seemed bothered by something. "Beth…" she said after a few moments. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?" 

Beth stared up at her. "What do you mean?" she said evasively. She was thinking, _She knows! She must have seen that recording, and recognised me!_

"It's this boyfriend of yours, isn't it? What's his name?" 

Beth's mouth hung open. She had no idea of what to say. She had no idea, for that matter, of what her mother was talking about. 

"Oh, Beth…I knew this had to come someday," Helen went on. "And I know it's very wonderful and exciting when you fall in love for the first time. But I'm a little worried about you, dear. All these late nights, and the detentions at school, and now I hear you talking to yourself…" She took a deep breath. "You haven't…done something foolish, have you?" 

"Mom!" Beth almost shouted, shocked. "Of course not!" 

Helen looked at her doubtfully. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," she said. "But…be honest with me, dear. There is something you're not telling me, isn't there?" 

Beth flushed. She looked down at the floor, not daring reply. 

"I thought so. I…dear, would you rather talk about this with your father?" 

Beth shook her head furiously. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. This was even worse than when Nanako had cornered her and made her talk to Eitoku, a few days ago. She wished she were somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

"All right." Helen sighed. "I suppose you're old enough that you need to handle this on your own. Just remember…we're here, and we love you. All right?" At Beth's nod she added, "And remember this, too: be careful. Not all young men are gentlemen." 

"Yes, Mom," Beth managed to say. For heaven's sake, she was sixteen years old! She wanted to laugh, or cry, or quite possibly scream. Or something. Instead she meekly said, "Yes, Mom." 

"Are you going out again tonight?" 

"Er—" Beth didn't know. She hadn't discussed it with Bendis yet. "Yes," she decided. 

Helen frowned. "I really wish you wouldn't," she said. "I don't know if you've heard, but there are some dangerous people on the streets at the moment. It was on the news today. I want you to be especially careful, do you hear me?" 

Beth smiled. At last, this was something she could be confident about. "Don't worry, Mom! If there's any crooks around, the Sailor Senshi will take care of them! Everyone at school today was saying—" 

"What? Beth, it's this 'Senshi' I'm talking about!" Helen shook her head, tut-tutting. "Oh, if we're lucky it'll just be some poor deluded girl playing a silly game. But if it turns out to be for real, I want you to be careful, understand? And if you see any of these Senshi, you stay well away from them!" 

Beth stared. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "The Senshi help people, they don't hurt them!" 

"Oh?" said Helen. "I know that's what everyone likes to think. And I admit things turned out well in the end. But back when they first appeared…Beth, you go to the library sometime, and look at some of the twentieth-century history books. Those girls attracted a lot of trouble back then. A number of people got hurt, and some of them nearly got killed, when they were around." 

Beth couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How can you say that? Everyone knows the Senshi were good!" 

"Meaning well is not the same as doing good," her mother said firmly. "And I'm not saying they were bad. I'm saying that when they were around there was always trouble." She gave Beth an unnervingly direct look. "I don't want you getting hurt, dear. So you stay well away. Promise me!" 

"But Mom—" 

"Promise me!" 

"All right," Beth said with a sigh. She thought fast. "I promise; I'll be careful, and if I see this Sailor Venus I'll stay away from her. All right?" 

Helen nodded. "Thank you, dear. Now, I must start on dinner—" She bustled off. Beth watched her go indignantly. The Senshi, trouble? Nonsense! 

Then she rubbed her arm, which was still quite sore, and frowned in thought. Perhaps she ought to talk to Bendis about this. She headed back to her room. As it turned out, this was an unwise decision. Bendis was not happy with her.

- - -

After dinner Beth headed out once more. She didn't really want to, actually; she would have preferred to spend the evening at home for a change. But she'd already told her mother she was going to go, and it might look odd if she didn't. Besides, she needed to talk to Bendis, and it didn't seem to be safe at home at the moment. 

Once she found a secluded spot, she sat down with a sigh. "I don't know what to do," she complained. "She thinks the Senshi are nothing but trouble-makers! What if she finds out _I'm_ one?" 

"So don't let her find out," said Bendis. 

Beth gave her an irritated look. "That's not very much help," she complained. But another thought troubled her. "Bendis, she said the Senshi used to attract trouble. Was that true?" 

"Well…" Bendis thought about it. "They didn't _cause_ the trouble," she said at last. "But it's certainly true that after they appeared, trouble seemed to seek them out. I suppose it's natural that defenders and enemies should be drawn to—" 

Beth did not seem to notice that she was still talking. "But then…if they attracted the trouble…" She made a face. "If I'm only going to draw in the bad guys and put other people in danger, maybe I should just give the whole thing up before it starts!" 

Bendis made a rude noise. "Don't get carried away. Remember, they weren't the _cause_. All those things might have happened even if the Senshi hadn't been around. And then where would we all have been? If they hadn't been there to stop Queen Beryl…" 

Nodding slowly, Beth said, "But there aren't any monsters around now. So why am I here? Why give me the power?" 

"I already told you, I didn't give it to you! Look, you were born with the capacity. I just recognised it." 

"You're make it sound like some kind of Cosmic Destiny thing," protested Beth. "Don't I get any choice?" 

Bendis gave a cat shrug. "Do you _want_ to give it up?" 

"No! I mean, well—" She broke off, struggling to say what she meant. "I just don't want to think that, you know, everything I do is all laid down or something, like I'm some kind of puppet." 

"Maybe you should talk to a priest," Bendis told her, rolling her eyes. "I'm not talking about predestination. It's more like an inheritance, you know? What you do with it's up to you. You can still fail. You can still get hurt." 

Beth rubbed her arm reflexively. "I got hurt last night," she said, almost inaudibly. 

"Sure, and whose fault was that?" said Bendis. "But you have to keep it in perspective. Okay, you got shot. It's not a particularly serious wound, but even so—you'll heal faster as a Senshi, but you're still going to have a sore arm for a few days, and probably a scar." Rather primly she added, "Actually, that might be a good thing. Now you know you're not invulnerable, you might be a bit more careful in future." 

Beth sniffed. "When did _you_ get so keen on being careful? A couple of days ago you were saying—" She stopped suddenly. "Wait a minute. A scar? I can't have a scar!" 

Bendis shrugged, unconcerned. "In the hero business, it's almost bound to happen before long—" 

"You idiot!" Bendis stared at her, startled. "I can't have a scar!" Beth shouted. "Everyone at school will see it! They'll know I'm Sailor Venus! This will ruin everything!" 

"Er, that's a pretty good point, actually." Bendis tried to think. "I don't suppose you can just wear long sleeves all the time? All right, scratch that one. Um. Ahh…let's see, what kind of excuse would explain—" 

"Excuses won't help! Thanks to that recording, everyone knows exactly where Sailor Venus got hurt!" Beth took on a sudden wild look. "I know! I'll change schools! That way—no, wait a minute, that won't work, will it?" She clutched her head. "What am I saying? Oh, no, what am I going to _do_?" 

"Calming down would be a good start," muttered Bendis. 

Unfortunately, Beth heard her. Bendis suddenly found herself picked up by the scruff of the neck. "You're…not…helping!" hissed Beth. 

"What do you want me to say?" protested Bendis in a rather strained voice. "Panicking isn't going to do any good! You don't even know if it's _going_ to cause a scar yet!" 

"What? But you just said—" 

"Maybe I was wrong! Maybe you won't get a scar! Or maybe it'll be so faint nobody'll see it! Or, or, or will you let me _breathe_!" 

"What? Oh. Yeah." Beth put Bendis down. She had an odd expression on her face: as if she didn't quite believe what she'd just been saying. She stared at Bendis for a moment, rubbing her arm without even noticing. 

In the sudden silence, they both heard it. The approaching hum. 

"Opal!" said Bendis unnecessarily. The cat jumped for cover. Beth watched her, puzzled. Why was Bendis so wary of Opals? 

The hum grew louder quickly. Beth looked up. After a few seconds she saw it: a dark shape in the sky, some distance off, barely visible in the twilight except for the steady winking of its running lights. It was headed north, and moving quite fast, she noticed with interest. And that meant— 

She smiled. Then she stepped into the nearby bushes, and said three words. 

Light and energy flared. 

Sailor Venus stepped out of the bushes once more, grinning like a fiend. She picked up an astonished Bendis before the cat could move; then, bounding from rooftop to rooftop at a furious pace, she started after the Opal.

- - -

"—Earth were you thinking?" ranted Bendis. "We're supposed to _avoid_ being seen by the police! Not go following them!" 

Venus glanced down and held a finger to her lips. "Shh," she shh'ed. 

"Dammit, aren't you listening to a word I—" Bendis stopped suddenly as Venus crouched down beside her. They were hidden on a rooftop overlooking the Opal's landing site, just outside a jeweller's shop. Or, in other words, a great deal closer than Bendis had ever wanted to come to an Opal again. 

"They're right below us," Venus whispered, smirking. "Keep it down, willya?" 

Bendis was silent for a moment. Finally, choosing her words carefully, she hissed, "What the hell are we doing here?" 

Venus shrugged. "Righting wrongs. Triumphing over evil. That sort of thing." 

The cat stared up at her, speechless. _She said that with a straight face,_ she thought inanely. "Er—" she said at last. 

"Hey, anywhere an Opal's going in that much of a hurry, there must be some kind of crime going on, right?" said Venus brightly. 

"Yes, and we'd all be much better off if you let the police in that Opal handle it, too! They're the ones who're _trained_ to fight crime! What makes you think they need you?" 

"Probably they don't," the Senshi admitted. "I was just planning to watch. Check out the action. Good idea to see how the pros handle things, right? Good training." 

Bendis stared. "You mean…you never intended to—" 

"Well, duh. You think I _want_ to get shot again? I'll just sit right here." Venus paused. "Unless it looks like they can't handle it, of course." 

"Unless—?" Bendis shot her a suspicious look. Then a movement below caught her eye. 

As they watched, four police officers climbed out of the Opal and cautiously approached the jeweller's, their weapons at the ready. Two of them disappeared inside. A third disappeared down a side alley; the fourth took up a position by the door. 

Nothing happened for some time. Then, suddenly, they heard gunfire: individual shots, and then the chatter of automatic fire. There were shouts, and a single short scream. 

The policeman at the door raised his gun and stepped into the doorway. Almost instantly, another shot rang out. He spun around with a cry of pain and fell to the ground. Moments later they heard running feet, and the third policeman reappeared. He ran to the fallen man's side, pulling him clear. 

Venus looked down at Bendis. She seemed uncertain. Her face was pale. "Guns," she whispered. Then, suddenly, she shook her head, and the grin was back. There was an anticipatory glint in her eye. "Do you think I should—" she began. 

Bendis shook her head firmly. "It's still not your job," she insisted. "Those police down there would tell you the same. There'll be more of them on the way." 

"Oh…I suppose so," Venus said. She looked disappointed. "But still—that man in the street. He, he's b-bleeding, and…and if I—" 

"If you go down there, the chances are that it'll be _you_ shot and bleeding," Bendis pointed out. "Face it, this isn't your fight. It isn't your _kind_ of fight." 

"Then what is?" asked Venus, very softly. And Bendis could not answer her. 

They continued to watch. The third policeman spoke quickly into his commset, then did what he could for his wounded comrade. Then he straightened and took up a position covering the entrance, his weapon drawn. Bendis whispered a running commentary. Venus nodded. She was starting to fidget. 

There were shouts. A single shot. More shouting. A group of people came out of the jeweller's. 

It took a few seconds to make out the details. There were four men with guns, holding a policewoman hostage. They were shouting out demands. The two watchers on the roof could not make out everything they said, but it was clear enough that things were going badly. One of the burglars held a gun to the hostage's head. 

Bendis heard a sound behind her. She glanced back, and saw Venus crouching down, measuring distances with her eyes, ready to leap. 

Venus winked at her. "Don't worry," she said. "After all, there aren't any security cameras out here to record _this_, are there?" 

"No! Don't—" Bendis began. Too late. Venus took a deep breath and sprang out into the air. For love, and justice. 

"You idiot," the cat whispered. "That's a police Opal down there. It's _full_ of security cameras."

- - -

The wind in her face was cold. She relaxed for half a second, enjoying it. Then she started concentrating on where she was going to land. And on what she'd have to do when she got there. 

Four bad guys, with guns. Hand-to-hand, she wasn't sure if she could get them all fast enough to keep them from getting off a shot. And the Love-Me Chain wasn't really much use from close up. So she'd have to keep it from getting close up. That made it more difficult. 

That made it a challenge. 

She touched down lightly on a ledge just a few metres above the little drama that was still playing out below. Nobody noticed. She nodded; good. This might just work. She waited until they were in the perfect position— 

First, the announcement. 

She stepped forward into view. "I am the lovely sailor-suited warrior Sailor Venus!" she declaimed. "You have broken the law, and seriously injured an officer of the law. But now you face a higher law!" Gesturing, she took up a dramatic pose. "In the name of the planet Venus—" she told them "—you're _mine_!" 

Seven pairs of eyes stared up at her. Seven faces reflected total disbelief. She paused for a moment, relishing the moment. Then she sprang. 

Her aim was true. She caught the hostage policewoman, waist-height in a perfect tackle, tearing her from the burglars' grasp and tumbling them over and over, stopping several metres away. Then, still on the ground, she flipped over and shouted, "VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!" 

The chain arced out. All those hours of practice paid off. It looped itself neatly around the group of burglars—and around the lamp post they had been passing. Venus let the drag on the chain flip her to her feet, braced herself, and hauled it tight. 

And that was all there was to it. The chain tightened around the little group, drawing them in against the lamp post. Most of them had their arms pinned down at their sides, helpless. The one man who kept his arms free dropped his gun at the sudden jerk. He plucked at the chain, cursing, then yelped as a spark of energy stung his hand. 

Venus smirked. "Yes!" she shouted. 

Then she turned to the police. For some reason, they didn't seem so happy. 

One of them didn't, at least. The policewoman she had saved climbed to her feet, shouting, "Who are you, and what the hell do you think you're doing? Don't you know you could get hurt?" 

Venus glared at her, annoyed and hurt. "I'm Sailor Venus," she told her. "And I'd've thought you'd be a bit more grateful, when I've just saved your life!" 

The woman stared at her once more, and something peculiar changed in her face. 

Then she slapped Venus' face. 

It was a hard blow, and it rocked Venus' head back. Venus stared at her, shocked. "Damn you," the woman hissed. "I've _worked_ to be where I am today. You think I'm going to be replaced by some prissy bitch in a short skirt? Why don't you get back to the kindergarten where you belong?" 

"W-what—" stammered Venus. 

"I ought to arrest you here and now," the woman continued. "You—oh, the hell with you. Shoji-kun—" She turned to look at the other policeman, still standing by the door. "I'm going to check on Tanaka. Look after Miss High-and-Mighty, will you?" 

She stalked back into the jeweller's, her body stiff and taut with rage. That left the last policeman, still staring at Venus. Venus tried to smile, but it didn't work very well. She felt as if she'd just been punched in the stomach. No, worse. "Your turn," she said. Her voice sounded shaky. 

"I thought you did very well," he said softly. 

"What?" 

"Don't mind her." He indicated the direction the woman had gone. "She hasn't gotten used to the idea yet. That it's starting again. It's all coming back." 

He smiled brightly. "She doesn't see it, not yet. Her eyes are still closed—" 

Then, to her horror, he knelt down and bowed his head before her. "Oh, please," he whispered urgently. "When you see the blessed queen, tell her…tell her…" He reached for her hand, and she realised he wanted to kiss it. She tried to squirm away from him, nauseated and—finally—afraid; but she could not move too far without releasing the Love-Me Chain, and if she did that it would vanish— 

And then someone else was there. The wounded 'P' division officer, pulling the would-be worshipper away. His left arm hung limply at his side, the shoulder stained a dark red that was nearly black under the street lights. His face was pale, but his eyes were alert and there was nothing unsteady in his voice. 

"You'd better go," he said quickly. "I'll take care of him." 

"But—" She indicated the chain, and the bundle of trapped burglars. 

"Right." He fumbled at his side with a short hiss of pain and produced another gun. "Just drop them," he said. "Then get out of here. I'll handle it." 

"I—" She took a deep breath. "Yes. Thank you." 

Thank you for being normal. 

She released the chain. Suddenly freed, the four prisoners staggered forward. Three of them dropped to the ground. Venus paid no attention. She turned and ran away. She did not watch to make sure the officer could manage. She did not stop to pick up Bendis. She did not look back at all. 

She just ran. And ran. And ran.

- - -

Bendis got back to the McCrea house on her own, hours later. She found Beth lying in bed, wide awake, her face stained with tears. Bendis did not say a word. She jumped onto the girl's bed, and Beth took her in her arms, and cried for a very long time. 

* * *

  

The next morning— 

Hayashi Miyo walked towards school, talking animatedly to her friends Dhiti and Kin. Dhiti had heard that there'd been another Senshi sighting the night before. They were discussing the possibility that the new Sailor Venus might be someone at their school. 

Kin still didn't believe in this new Senshi. "It's got to be a trick of some kind," she insisted. "Maybe they're shooting some new movie, or something." 

"Yeah, sure," snorted Dhiti. "You think the newsies wouldn't know about that?" Dhiti was obviously a Claver, her skin was very dark; but she spoke perfect, unaccented Japanese. "C'mon, tell her, Hayashi!" 

Miyo jumped. "What?" she said. "Ah, sorry, what did you say?" Dhiti repeated herself. "Oh. No, I don't think it was a movie. It could be some kind of impostor, though. Or…" 

She trailed off uncertainly. She'd had the oddest dream last night. She was fairly sure it had been about a Senshi. It had been all blurred and strange, though, as if seen through fogged glass— 

She thought about telling the other two about it, but Dhiti was already talking again. She was running through a list of girls they knew, rating each one on her potential Senshi-hood. Miyo listened, amused. 

It was odd, this business, she thought. Unsettling. Did new Senshi mean there was going to be a Queen again? That would be interesting. Then the Serenity Council would have to step down—after all, they only held power until the Queen returned. It was in their charter. 

She said as much, and Dhiti and Kin both stared at her. "Geez, _politics_!" said Kin in disgust. 

"Hey, what's wrong with you this morning?" inquired Dhiti. "You look pretty out of it." Then suddenly, she gasped. "I know!" she said theatrically. "It's you! _You're_ Sailor Venus!" 

Miyo joined in their laughter. "Yeah, that'll be the day," she said. But something inside her added, _No…that's not it…_

"Anyway, let's talk about something more interesting," Dhiti suggested, and launched into a description about what she was going to do in the fencing tournament the next week. 

Miyo rolled her eyes. Only Dhiti would think western-style fencing was more interesting than Sailor Senshi. But then, that was Dhiti all over. The smartest girl Miyo knew, but she could never stay on one topic for more than five minutes. 

Shaking her head, she walked on, trying to appear interested in what the smaller girl was saying. They came up to the gates of Aosagi School. As they passed through, Miyo glanced down and was surprised to see a small white cat sitting just inside the gate, staring up at her. That was odd. _White cat,_ something inside her said. But what was so special about a white cat? 

She shook her head, bewildered, still looking at it. Its eyes followed her as she went past, and she almost thought it seemed surprised to see her— 

"Are you listening to what I'm saying, Hayashi?" demanded Dhiti. And Miyo laughed, apologised, and walked on, the cat forgotten…

- - -

Artemis stared after the girl, stunned. _After all these years,_ he thought. Who would have believed it? 

Oh, he'd put up a good talk for Itsuko. He'd claimed to have been so certain. But somewhere deep inside…he had not been sure. He kept up the search, doggedly, year after decade after century, but he had not been sure. He had doubted. 

_Oh, Serenity,_ he thought. _You managed it after all._

He had seen the girl clearly. Seen the moment of recognition in her eyes. _Felt_ the power within her. 

_You did it…you sent them forward, to be reborn yet again…_

There could be no further doubt. Not any more. Because the girl he had just seen, Miyo, the tall girl with the ponytail of chestnut hair, was the living image of Kino Makoto. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER THREE**

**Next:** Chaos continues to build; trouble for Bendis; and—the return of Sailor Jupiter!


	5. Chapter 4: Thunderbolt!

**What has gone before:** It's the year 4200. More than seven hundred years ago, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet-unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the mysterious evil. All over the world, civilisation fell. Then, one hundred years ago, a great renaissance began. Today the city of Third Tokyo is the centre of a new world order ruled by the Serenity Council (the "Serries"). 

Artemis survived the final battle, and now wanders the world with his young great-granddaughter Bendis, hoping that the Senshi will somehow be reborn once more. When Bendis accidentally speaks to a Serenity Council member, the Council begins a surreptitious hunt for her. Shortly after, Artemis and Bendis argue and split up. In a nearby school, Bendis finds that one of the students, McCrea Beth, is the new Sailor Venus: first of a new generation of Senshi. Bendis decides to train her on her own. 

Meanwhile Artemis asks an old friend to help find Bendis again: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, who somehow survived the final battle for Crystal Tokyo. Now powerless, she tries to avoid recognition, going by the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko, owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. However, Itsuko's efforts to help Artemis draw attention and a secret investigation of the Olympus begins. At the same time, she starts to have visions suggesting that the evil that destroyed Crystal Tokyo is beginning to move again. 

After a recording of the new Venus in action is broadcast nationally, public opinion is divided: she is alternately welcomed, believed to be a hoax, and even hated for daring to step in the dead Senshi's shoes. The Council begin plans to deal with her, and order their chief scientist to develop a Senshi-detector. And also put other, more sinister plans into operation… 

Sailor Pluto secretly alters records to obstruct the investigation of the Olympus. And Artemis finds another schoolgirl, Hayashi Miyo, who is apparently Kino Makoto, Sailor Jupiter, reborn… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER FOUR  
Thunderbolt!  
A Blast from the Past**

Hayashi Miyo was having a strange day at school. She was being haunted by a cat. 

She saw it again at lunch-time. Three times. It was almost as if the thing were following her around. But why would a _cat_ be following her? 

Boys, she could understand. There was always one who thought that a girl as tall as she was had to be a challenge. That was all right, thought; she knew how to deal with boys who got too attentive when she didn't want it. But a cat? 

For a while she thought it could smell food on her. But she hadn't been handling any food today; her mother had packed her lunch for her. (Her mother was the only person Miyo knew who cooked better than she did herself.) 

So…it had to be a weird coincidence. Right? 

Coincidence hell. Something was going on. 

She had to admit that sounded paranoid. Why was she getting worried about a cat, of all things? But there was something weird about that cat. Something about the way it looked at her. And (this was the weird bit) something about the way she kept thinking that—somehow, somewhere, oh this was impossible—she'd seen it before. That she recognised it. And that was insane, right? 

The idea that she was going mad was confirmed when she heard a voice say, "The other girl called you Miyo, right? Look, we need to talk." 

She looked down and saw the cat. She squawked, and ran for it.

- - -

She found her friends, Kin and Dhiti, a few minutes later. Kin looked up as she approached and said, "Wow, Miyo-chan, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She was a tiny girl, almost elfin, with short blonde hair and a cheeky grin. 

"Maybe I have," Miyo said wildly, panting. "I just saw—" She stopped suddenly. She was going to tell her friends that a cat was talking to her? _Sure_ she was. 

"Nothing," she finished firmly. "I didn't see _anything_." The other two looked at her oddly and she sighed. "Sorry, guys," she said. "I'm having a very weird day." 

"Yeah, like you aren't weird most of the time anyway," snorted Dhiti. She was taller than Kin, dark-skinned, with jet-black hair falling just below her shoulders. The tilak on her forehead caught the light for a moment as she spoke. 

"Hey, at least she doesn't have any black eyes this time," pointed out Kin. 

"Hmm." Dhiti pretended to study Miyo. "No scrapes or bruises either. You feeling all right, Hayashi?" 

"Ha! You should see the other guy!" said Miyo, playing along. She was starting to relax at last. It was good to be with normal people. Away from mysterious…white cats who definitely _hadn't_ been talking to her, dammit! 

Dhiti snorted. "At least it isn't your brothers again." 

"Ah…" Miyo made a face. "No." 

"You and your brothers," said Kin, shaking her head. "I don't know how you stand it." 

"Yeah, well, all your brothers are younger than you. Trust me, it makes a difference." 

Dhiti snickered. "Every time I see you and your brothers, I remember how glad I am to be an only child." 

Miyo grinned and said, "Dhiti-chan, we're _all_ glad you're an only child. Having any more like you would be insufferable." 

"Oh yeah?" retorted Dhiti. "Let me tell you—" 

"Look out!" someone shouted. 

At the same time, somebody collided with Miyo, almost knocking her down. A boy, she registered vaguely. He sprinted on without looking back, took a great leap into the air, and just barely missed catching the ball he'd been chasing. He cursed in some foreign language—English, she thought. 

Moments later he came hurrying back, holding the ball and looking annoyed. He slowed down as he passed the three girls, nodded to Miyo and said, "Sorry about that." His Japanese was good, but had a definite accent. She recognised him now: one of the two new boys who'd started a week or two ago, transfer students from some enclave or other. He was tall, with short black hair, and inoffensively handsome. 

"Yeah, well, you oughta be!" replied Miyo. She wasn't actually angry with him; but she did have a reputation to uphold, after all. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" 

He looked surprised for a moment. Then he grinned—and knelt down before her. "My humble apologies, Hayashi-sama," he intoned. "Can you ever forgive me?" 

"Oh—" She ran out of words, flushing unaccountably. "Oh, get out of here!" 

He ran off, laughing. She heard more laughs coming from behind her. "Real good line, Hayashi," said Dhiti with a snicker. 

"Couldn't be she _likes_ him, could it?" added Kin, smirking. 

Miyo sighed. "You know," she said dreamily, "he reminds me of my…of my…" She blinked suddenly. "Sorry," she said after a moment. "I forgot what I was going to say." 

"Oh, she's got it bad," Dhiti carolled. "Look out, Wright-kun, Hayashi's on the rampage—" 

"Will you cut it out?" said Miyo, irritated. 

"He _is_ good-looking, though," offered Kin. "If you don't want him, Miyo-chan, I'd be glad to—" 

"Look, will you stop that?" Miyo wished she'd kept her big mouth shut. What had she been thinking of, saying that about him? (Whatever it was that she'd been about to say.) 

"Or there's always the other one," pointed out Dhiti helpfully. She was grinning from ear to ear. "You know, the one who—" 

"Thank you," Miyo said through gritted teeth. "I know the one you mean." 

It would have been hard to forget, actually. The two boys had caused a sensation on their first day in class. The suave, polished-looking Alaskan, Wright Mark (but he kept getting it wrong and saying Mark Wright), had half the girls in class swooning over him…while his friend, Keenan Liam, had the rest of them giggling at his bizarre accent and the odd way he kept phrasing himself. (Where was he from again? "Kilkenny"—where was that?) 

"Ooh, you do?" said Dhiti, fluttering her eyelashes madly. "Oh, Kin-chan, did you hear that? She loves him passionately! How romantic! Soon they'll be married and settling down with half a dozen pigtailed children who can't speak a word of Japanese—" 

She had to stop there because Miyo's hands were around her throat. She flailed around for a moment, appealing for help from Kin; but Kin was laughing too hard to be able to do a thing. 

"Would you like to rephrase that?" inquired Miyo. 

Dhiti nodded frantically. The grip on her throat eased for a moment and she managed to gasp out, "All right! I'm sorry! I meant…I meant a _dozen_ pigtailed children—" 

Miyo tried to throttle her again; but by this time she was laughing too hard herself to be able to do a good job of it. When she caught sight of Kin's face, she only laughed harder; and before long all three were in a heap on the ground, roaring and snorting helplessly. 

From that point, seriousness was a lost cause. It had become one of those classic laughing fits that went on and on; whenever it threatened to die down, one of them would gasp out "Pigtails" or "A dozen children," and all three would start to whoop again. After a few minutes they started to attract a crowd, and some time later a teacher arrived to demand what was going on. None of them were too coherent by that time, though, and eventually he stumped away, shaking his head and muttering. 

It had to end at last, though. Kin staggered away, clutching her sides and actually looking sick; and without her, gradually the other two were able to let it die away. After a few minutes Kin rejoined them, and the three lay back in the grass, gasping for breath. 

"Hoo," said Miyo at last. "I needed that. Thanks, Dhiti-chan." 

"Natch," said Dhiti. "So what was your problem, anyway? You looked pretty spooked before. Somebody getting your goat again?" 

"Um. Not exactly…" Miyo hesitated. She didn't want to admit how upset she'd been by that damned cat. It was pretty silly, in retrospect. But somehow, it just seemed to— 

She froze. 

The cat was there, only a few metres away. Watching her. 

She jumped up with an incoherent shout, waved her fist at it, and bellowed, "What are you _doing_!" The cat stared back, its eyes very wide. Then it took off. Miyo followed it a moment later, yelling, "You're not getting away that easily!" Dhiti and Kin watched her go, eyes wide. 

"Well," said Kin after a minute or two. "That was odd." 

Dhiti raised her eyebrows. "This _is_ Hayashi we're talking about, remember." 

Kin nodded slowly. "Right. But still…that was pretty odd." 

They looked at each other, and nodded solemnly. Then they both started to laugh again.

- - -

The cat managed to get away somehow, to Miyo's fury, and she was grumpy for the rest of the day. Her classmates recognised the signs, and stayed well clear—even Mark, which disappointed her for some reason. Thus deprived of anything to take out her frustrations on, she arrived home in a foul mood. 

Her brothers were home already, which did not help matters. Ichiyo was watching some kind of sports program on the viddy; he glanced up as she came in, saw her face, and called out, "Watch it! Miyo's on the warpath." 

She made a face at him (which he ignored), and stalked past on the way to her room. Fujimaro picked that moment to poke his head out and shout, "What is it this time? Oh!" He cleared his throat and added, at a lower volume, "Hi, oneesan. Didn't see you there." 

"I just bet," she hissed, thinking about punching him. It would be satisfying, she decided regretfully, but more trouble than it was worth. She could probably still take him; but he was starting to put on some muscle and things might get messy, especially if Ichiyo decided to join in. 

With a sigh that was part frustration and part resignation, she pushed past him and opened the door to her bedroom—or rather, the room she shared with Miliko, her twelve-year-old sister. As she stalked in Fujimaro called out, "Boyfriend trouble again?" She could almost _hear_ his grin. 

She froze on the threshold, weighing the options. She wanted to hit somebody, very badly. But something inside her kept saying: do you really want to get into a fight because you couldn't catch a cat? And in the end, shaking her head wearily, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. 

When she looked up, her breath caught. 

Miliko was sitting on her bed, with a cat in her lap. _The_ white cat. She was stroking it, and it was purring. 

As Miyo stared at it, it looked up at her. 

Unmistakably, it winked. 

Her face quite blank, Miyo stepped out of her room, closed the door quietly, and started to count to a hundred. _I'm calm,_ she told herself firmly, remembering her father's acid comments after the last time she come home with her uniform ripped and filthy. _I am not angry. I'm not getting into a—_

Fujimaro chose that moment to make another humourous comment. She froze, with the count on sixty-eight…and then, with a howl of pent-up rage and frustration, hurled herself on him and did her level best to beat the grin off his face. Eventually, Ichiyo had to pull her off him.

- - -

Later, as she lay on her bed alone while the rest of the family ate dinner, the cat lifted its head, cleared its throat, and said, "Can we talk now? Or are you going to run away again?" 

She scowled at it, then looked away. 

With a sigh, the cat said, "Look, I'm sorry you're in trouble. But it's not exactly my fault, you know. You did it all yourself." 

"Oh, shut up," she grumped. "You don't even exist, anyway." 

The cat snorted. "Considering what the news has been full of, these last couple of days, I'd have thought you'd be a bit more open-minded about talking cats. Let me introduce myself. My name is Artemis." 

"Oh, of course," Miyo said sarcastically. "And you've come to recruit me to be a Sailor Senshi, right?" 

"Well, not exactly," the cat said. "Actually, I've come to ask you to be a Sailor Senshi _again_." 

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, _again_? Gee, I must have amnesia. I suppose I've secretly been creeping out every night to fight evil in my pyjamas?" 

The cat snorted. "No." It fixed her with an unnervingly direct gaze and said, "Hear me, Hayashi Miyo: you are Kino Makoto reborn. You are the reincarnation of Sailor Jupiter of Crystal Tokyo, friend and team-mate of Queen Serenity; and the further reincarnation of Hebe, Senshi Jupiter of the Silver Millennium, champion and guardian of the planet Jupiter, warrior of the Thunder and servant of Serenity the Last." He took a deep breath. "And it is time for you to resume your duties." 

She stared at him, a little awed in spite of herself. "You…you almost sound serious." 

He made a noise that sounded like a stifled chuckle. "Miyo-san, just lie back, and relax. Relax…and remember." 

_REMEMBER._ The word seemed to echo in her ears. She felt disoriented, dizzy; she found that she could not move. For a moment she thought she saw the mark on the cat's forehead, the mark shaped like a crescent moon, glowing. But the cat's eyes—those bright feline eyes—were spreading, growing, growing to fill her entire field of vision. And then they swallowed her up completely.

- - -

When she woke up, she remembered. She remembered everything. 

* * *

  

Number Twelve touched an icon on her control pad, and the steel shutters rolled apart with a faint rumble. The tank beyond them was filled with a murky liquid, dimly lit. There was something suspended in the liquid. It was not human, or even humanoid, any more. 

"Impressive," said the chairman of the Serenity Council. "I wasn't expecting you to be ready for another week yet." 

Twelve smiled. "The old method proved…impractical. But we were able to find an easier way. Number Eight dug up some useful records from the Archives." 

"Really?" The chairman was interested. "What sort of records?" 

"Transcripts of the excavation of Mugen Gakuen. The Nemesis expedition report. Analyses of youma ash. There's quite a lot there, if you know what you're looking for." 

The chairman nodded. "Excellent work. Give Eight my compliments." He hesitated. "Remember, though…we don't want these things to be _too_ successful. Not yet. Just enough of a threat to draw the Senshi out." 

"Don't worry. We'll have them under tight control." She hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry about the recording." 

"It can't be helped," the chairman said, shrugging. "We should probably have expected it anyway." 

The enhanced recording of Sailor Venus' debut appearance had been played at a Council meeting that morning. It had been of excellent quality…except for the images of Venus herself. Those remained blurred and grainy, unrecognisable. The image-enhancement experts at the Tenshin Institute professed themselves baffled. 

"I understand that a similar phenomenon was observed in the Twentieth Century," the chairman went on. "I expect the Opal recordings of last night's incident will be just as bad. Well, we'll just have to do it the hard way." 

He looked at the shape floating in the tank, and smiled. "In the end, it will be _very_ hard," he promised. 

* * *

  

She stood outside in the early morning light, watching the sun rise, watching the stars slowly fade. Watching one star in particular. 

So many years…so many memories. The faces of people she had known, now lost in the past. Places she had been, things she had done. Enemies and friends; Queens and Senshi; colleagues and loved ones. All gone now. All lost, left behind. Desolation threatened to sweep her away; but she held firm, her expression unchanging, her eyes fixed on that star. 

The air was cool on her skin, and she shivered; but she did not move, did not permit herself to waver until Jupiter's last sparkle was lost in the growing daylight. Then, only then, did she allow herself to turn away, back to the house that she hardly recognised, that was her home now—back to the life that she lived now. Back to the Here, back to the Present. And to the cat that patiently awaited her. 

"I can't find my henshin wand," she said without preamble. "I assume it was lost when I died?" 

"I have it," Artemis admitted. "Are you sure you want to rush into—" He stopped, seeing her expression. "All right. Wait a moment, and I'll pull it out of storage." 

He braced himself, took a deep breath, and then began to spin around madly, as if chasing his tail. Faster, faster, whirling like a dervish, until he was only a blur— 

And suddenly something appeared in the midst of the blur: a tiny, glittering object. Artemis spun to a stop, panting. "Hard work," he gasped. "But it's got to be better than the gymnastics method." 

Ignoring him, she bent down and picked up the object: a short, yellow rod, with an ancient symbol at the tip. Nodding shortly, she held it up to the sky—pointing it at her home planet, hidden behind the growing blue of the sky—and said the words. 

And the thunder descended.

- - -

Artemis watched nervously as Sailor Jupiter looked down, inspected herself briefly, and gave one quick satisfied nod. When she looked up again, he saw that something in her face had changed. Before, she had looked cold…remote. But now— 

"Artemis," she said. 

—she looked annoyed. 

"Are you all right?" he said cautiously. "How well do you remember?" 

"Well enough," she said unhelpfully. Then, "Artemis, what the _hell_ did you think you were doing, following me around like that? You were scaring me!" 

"Scaring you?" said Artemis, surprised. "Is that why you got so—but why? I mean, how? Why were you afraid of—" He stopped. "Wait a moment. You mean…you were starting to remember? Even _then_?" 

"I don't know!" she replied, irritated. "It was just…like there was something really spooky going on, y'know?" 

"Interesting," he mused. "Sounds like something was beginning to leak through. Have you been having any odd dreams? Anything that might connect to your other life?" She nodded. He cocked his head to one side, thinking. "I wonder if that's significant," he muttered. 

Jupiter snorted. "You never were too hot on that stuff, were you?" she said, grinning faintly. "Why don't you just ask Luna? She's the expert on the mental—what's wrong? What did I say?" 

"Luna…didn't make it," Artemis said carefully. "She died just a few minutes after you." 

"Oh…" Jupiter bit her lip. "I'm sorry." 

They both stood for a moment, lost in the memory of that last, doomed battle. Then, making a deliberate effort to change the subject, Artemis said, "It all seems to have come back to you pretty well. How much _do_ you remember?" 

Jupiter shrugged. "Pretty much everything, as far as I can tell," she said. He could see it, too clearly, in her face—the feeling of loss: places, faces…enemies, friends, loved ones. And the brightest face of them all— 

"Oh, Usagi," she whispered. "Oh, Serenity. She died, didn't she?" 

"Yes," Artemis nodded. "She died. Working the same magic her mother did, to send you all forward again…" 

"Oh, no…" Jupiter looked up at the sky again. At the star…the planet. With her enhanced vision, he knew, she would still be able to pick it out. In her Senshi form, she would always be able to do that. Always be able to see home. 

"Oh, Usagi," she repeated softly. "I'd offer a prayer for you in the Halls of Conscience if I could…" 

Artemis looked up at her, confused. "'Halls of Conscience'?" he said. "What are the—" Wait a minute; that did sound familiar, somehow. Something he'd heard, a long time ago—"Oh, right, I remember. Hey, wait a moment! The Halls of Conscience were on Callisto! What do you know about them?" 

She frowned. "Huh? What are you talking about? Don't be silly, Artemis. I was born on Callisto, back when I was Hebe. I've been to the Halls lots of times." 

"No, I mean…Makoto—ahh, Miyo-san…" Artemis stopped, frustrated. Then, very seriously, he asked, "Just how much do you remember about the Silver Millennium, anyway?" 

"You already asked me that. I told you: all of it." 

"No, I meant—really? Everything? You remember _everything_?" 

"Yes. What's the matter?" Jupiter's eyes widened suddenly. "Wait a minute. Oh, no. That's right. I didn't before, did I? I didn't remember it at all, did I?" 

She stared down at him. "You idiot cat, what have you done to me now?" 

"I don't know," he muttered. "I have absolutely no idea." 

* * *

  

It was a relief to be out of the house. Bendis had spent entirely too long cooped up inside over the last week or so. It was turning out to be quite difficult to get out when Beth was away at school; apparently Helen, Beth's mother, had gotten the idea that Bendis would run away if she got outside, so she was very careful never to give the cat a chance. 

Today, though, Beth had helped smuggle Bendis out; and it felt so good to be able to wander around, _free_, that several times she actually caught herself purring. Embarrassing, that. 

Er, not that she was just wandering around, of course (she told herself firmly). She did have a good excuse (reason!) to be out. She wanted to prowl around Beth's school and eavesdrop on conversations, try to get an idea of public reactions to the new Senshi. 

Some of the news reports on the viddy of late had been rather worrying. Sailor Venus had begun as a sensational new story, and the newsies had all been falling over themselves to find new superlatives to use about her. That had continued, to some extent, after her second outing, when somebody at 'P' Division leaked the tapes from the Opal that had been on the scene. But even then, the tenor of the stories had been beginning to change. Now, only a day later, there was a disturbing trend setting in. They were starting to do "thought" pieces, and a number of the commentators were asking: do we need Senshi any more? 

How much of that was an attempt to scare up ratings, and how much was genuine? More importantly, did the news programs reflect what ordinary people thought? How many people did _not_ welcome a new set of Senshi? Beth's experience of two nights before, at the jeweller's, was especially disturbing. Out of three 'P' Division officers, one had heaped scorn her, one had apparently wanted to _worship_ her—and only one had acted in what Bendis would have called a normal manner. Those were worrying figures. But how real were they? How did, for example, the children at Beth's school feel? 

She wished she could talk to Artemis about it. And she hated herself for feeling that way. 

The jeweller's had left Beth badly shaken. She hadn't said much about it, except to briefly outline what had happened; but it was clear how upset the girl was. She hadn't gone out last night—her mother, at least, was relieved—and she was hardly speaking to Bendis at all. And for two nights running, now, she had cried herself to sleep. 

Bendis was half-afraid to leave her alone. But she had to know. 

She left Beth a little way short of the school gates, and climbed over the boundary wall. There were twenty minutes or so to go before classes began, and a number of students were milling around. She strolled over to the nearest group and began her just-an-innocent-kitty act, sniffing fingers, rubbing against legs and purring for all she was worth. 

For the next quarter of an hour she went from group to group, being as friendly as she could, accepting a good deal of hospitality (this system of information-gathering had many advantages) and keeping her ears open. Before long she had heard more than enough to worry her even more. 

Some students were still positive, even enthusiastic. But others were far less so. The way the Serenity Council still hadn't taken any public position didn't help. Quite a few were claiming that the whole thing had been a hoax. The fact that Venus had dealt with the jewel robbery so quickly, and so easily, lent credence to this. There had been no extroverted action, no dazzling super-powers; just the quick flash of the chain, which after all would be very simple to fake (they said). Also, Venus hadn't appeared last night. Why not? Was she afraid? After all, she'd run away pretty quickly from the jeweller's. Or was it because she was a fraud, not up to handling _real_ action? 

And there was a small but vocal group who thought that Senshi who just ran around catching burglars weren't much use, or even terribly interesting. What was the point? they asked. And really, who cared? A Sailor Senshi who spent her time on something that trivial could have little to do with the Senshi of the past, who'd fought with Queen Serenity. 

Bendis had to restrain herself, several times, from scratching the hands that were stroking her. 

She squirmed free of the latest pair of arms and walked away, fuming quietly. These people were so fickle! No wonder Beth was so upset. She must have been hearing this sort of thing all yesterday, and not been able to say a word in her own defence. These people, these students who'd welcomed her so quickly, who'd been so enthusiastic about her first appearance…how readily they changed their tune, she thought bitterly. How easily they— 

A hand reached down and picked her up. Another hand curled around her, holding her firmly. She stiffened, struggled briefly, but couldn't move. She tried to squirm around, see who had caught her. _Oh, shit,_ she thought frantically. _The Serries have got me at last—_

Then a voice said happily, "Moon cat!" 

She groaned aloud. It was worse than the Serries. It was Hideo. 

* * *

  

The young man had short blond hair and wore dark glasses. He was smiling broadly as he walked into the coffee shop, and the woman behind the counter smiled back. He looked cheerful, charming even, she told the police later. Right up until the moment when he pulled out the gun and invited her to empty the cash register for him. 

She obeyed nervously. To her surprise, the man didn't take the money and run. Instead he remained exactly where he was, gun levelled at her, still grinning that cheerful grin. For a few seconds she thought he had other things in mind besides robbery, and began to tremble. But then— 

Then, he stood motionless for fifteen minutes. The gun, and the grin, never wavered throughout that time. It was as if he were waiting for something. 

At last, after a quarter of an hour, he moved again. He lowered the gun, picked up the money, and walked quietly out. As he was going through the door, his grin slipped for a moment. He looked almost…disappointed? 

* * *

  

Miyo was having a bad day at school. 

She should have expected it, she knew. After all, she now had clear memories of _two_ previous lives—school years and all—and it made for a certain monotony. Admittedly, the schooling system back in the Silver Millennium had been rather different—especially for daughters of the Royal House of Jupiter—but still she thought she was justified in feeling a little bored. 

The only interesting moments came when the teacher said something that completely contradicted something she'd learned before. Then she had to try and work out which of the two versions was correct. Sometimes it wasn't easy. Once, she made the mistake of asking the teacher: when he was talking about radioactive isotopes, she put up her hand to ask a question about using epichronic fields to lengthen half-lives. He looked at her as if she'd gone mad. So did the rest of the class. She made a hasty excuse about a science-fiction book she was reading; to her relief he gave her a disgusted look and went on with the lecture, while she privately vowed to keep her mouth shut in future. 

It was difficult dealing with her friends, too. Yesterday she'd been an ordinary schoolgirl—well, fairly ordinary; taller than most, true, and with something of a reputation for scrapping, but that was the natural outcome of having two argumentative brothers. Today she was three people rolled into one. There were two other lifetimes in her head, both of them far in the past; and in one of them she had been fifteen hundred years old. It made it rather difficult to relate to the other girls. 

At least they weren't around at the moment. Kin was off at her music practice, and Dhiti had run off when the bell went—probably on another one of her endless hobbies. For now, she was blessedly alone. 

Morbidly, she started to catalogue the differences in her lives. Life in the Silver Millennium—a princess, born thousands of years ago on a world hundreds of millions of kilometres from Earth; companion to the heirs of seven other worlds; guardian to the Heir to the Throne. A life filled with wonder and beauty. And then, reborn: a schoolgirl in Tokyo, gradually awakening to her heritage: the power, and the obligations. But not the memory; not the knowledge, the certainty of what she had been. Guardian once more, but starting afresh—and that newness, that difference, gave her a clean perspective, a chance to build a life all over again. A life… 

What kind of life did she have ahead of her now? What kind of life _could_ she have? She felt suffocated. She was drowning, deluged in experience. And she was honestly not sure that she had the heart to go through with it all over again. 

Yesterday she had been happy. Yesterday she had been free, her future completely open. Today, the past behind her cast a shadow over that future, as black as night. Sometimes, she thought wryly, life really sucked. You thought everything was fine, and then Life came and tapped on your shoulder, and nothing could ever be the same again— 

Somebody came and tapped on her shoulder. 

"Yo, Hayashi!" Dhiti shouted, almost in her ear. She nearly screamed. "You all right? You've been acting pretty weird. What's the matter? Your boyfriend tell you he's pregnant?" 

Miyo sighed. "I should be so lucky," she said, remembering other men, long ago. Nephrite, and her sempai…and…and…wait a minute. 

"_What_ did you say?" she demanded incredulously. 

Dhiti dissolved into laughter. "If you could s-see your expression…" she managed to say. 

_Then again,_ Miyo thought darkly, _what did I know, back then? Neither of those other lives ever had to deal with a Dhiti!_

She stood up slowly; seeing her expression, Dhiti started to back away. A sensible reaction at last; but she had left it far too late. 

_One thing's for sure. This girl needs punishing—and in the name of Jupiter—_

With a triumphant whoop Miyo launched herself forward, catching Dhiti around the legs in a textbook-perfect tackle. From there on, everything got simply too silly for words. 

* * *

  

Bendis was having a bad day at school. 

Hideo held on to her tightly, blithely oblivious to her struggles to break free. "So I was right?" he burbled. "It _was_ one of those girls that you were looking for? And she's Sailor Venus? I'm so glad you came back—" 

Bendis struggled again. His grip was almost suffocating her, but having to listen to him chatter on and on was far worse. _One little mistake,_ she thought bitterly, _and you never stop paying for it…_ But of course, speaking to Hideo, back when she'd been looking for Beth, hadn't been a little mistake—as she was learning now. It had been a gigantic one, and if she could reach back in time and throttle herself before she spoke to him, she'd do it cheerfully— 

"-na? Luna? Are you listening to me, Luna?" 

Oh, no. Not that again. 

She mustered what breath she could, and shouted at the top of her lungs: "Look, kid, how many times to I have to tell you, my name is NOT LUNA!" 

He gave her that same woeful, hangdog expression that he'd worn the first time she'd told him—like a dog that had just been kicked. Well, good, she thought spitefully. Let's kick him some more. 

"You got it? My name is Bendis. _Not_ Luna. Luna is dead. Dead, got it? Dead! She died more than seven hundred years ago, now can you get that into your head? I. Am. NOT. LUNA!" 

He stared at her miserably for some time. Then suddenly his expression changed to one of almost idiotic cunning and he said, "But what kind of name is 'Bendis'? That's not a moon name!" 

_'Moon name?' Oh, please…_ Bendis muttered something under her breath—it almost sounded like something about a "stupid joke of Artemis's"—before saying, "Look, just forget it, kid, all right? Bendis. That's what my name is. The rest doesn't matter." 

He pondered this for a moment. "Are you mad at me?" he asked. 

_Oh, brother._ "Now why would I be mad at you?" she asked sarcastically in response. "You pick me up without warning, you hold onto me so tight I can hardly _breathe_, and to make matters worse you keep on _talking_ to me out where anyone can see you…! Now gee, I wonder, why would I be angry about any of that?" 

"What?" 

Oh, great. Now she'd confused him. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Look, kid—look, Hideo. Can you just put me down?" 

"Which one of them is Sailor Venus?" he asked suddenly. 

"Be—" she started to answer before she could stop herself. There was a long silence as they stared at each other. 

Damn! The kid _was_ good. She hadn't seen that coming at all. She had been set up. He'd actually _lured_ her—acted the fool to make her drop her guard, deliberately made her lose her temper so she wouldn't be thinking too clearly—then sprung that question without warning, and it had _damn_ nearly worked. 

She squirmed again, and this time he loosened his grip, allowing her to jump down to the ground. She ran a few paces, getting a safe distance between them, before looking back. 

"I'm sorry," Hideo whispered. He looked a lot older than twelve in that moment. "I'm sorry. But I…I just have to know…" 

"How can I tell you anything?" Bendis said bitterly. "How can I ever trust you—_now_?" 

His mouth worked for a moment. His lips formed the words "I'm sorry" once more, but no sound came out. He looked away at last, to her relief, and she turned and walked off, not quickly, leaving him standing there. Alone. 

She took a long, rambling course through the school grounds: not heading anywhere in particular, but simply walking aimlessly. Inwardly, still fuming; snarling, raging at the betrayal. 

She had thought Hideo was—well, not a friend. But an ally. Someone that she could call on, if she needed him. Not that she ever _would_ need him, naturally—things would have to be pretty bad before she needed the help of a twelve-year-old boy again—but still, it was nice to know that there were others she could call on if she needed them, others besides Artemis— 

_Nope. Not gonna go there._

But he had to keep _pushing_! Twice in the days after she'd found Beth, she'd had to dodge him; and now he'd actually managed to catch her unawares, and almost gotten important information out of her… 

Couldn't he see? Couldn't he see that there were things she couldn't talk about? Did he think that because he had helped her once, he had a right to be told everything? But of course he did. He was young, and infatuated with the mystique. He needed to get in closer, to _be_ _there_. To reach out and touch it. To be part of the legend. 

In a way, he was like the 'P' Division officer who'd upset Beth so much. The one who'd wanted to worship her. Hideo wasn't that far gone; but he posed just as much of a danger to Beth. Or perhaps more. The Church of Serenity were for the most part quiet, dedicated people whose odd beliefs, to Bendis' way of thinking, did more harm to themselves than anyone else. But Hideo could do worse than worship Beth; he could easily reveal her identity to the world, accidentally or otherwise; and in this day and age, that would be catastrophic. 

At some point in her musings, Bendis gradually became aware that she was being followed. 

It was only a nagging feeling, at first. Just a hunch. But before long she was sure. They were doing it quite well: keeping a good distance, not watching her directly, blending in with the rest of the children in the grounds. But, naturally, it wasn't hard to work out who. And why. 

She continued on on her aimless stroll around the grounds. Occasionally someone would notice her and want to cuddle her, or feed her, or pet her; and then she would politely sniff fingers, or take a bite or two of what was offered, or accept a few strokes; but then she would move on. Working her way slowly toward the point she had chosen— 

—And then she ducked around the side of one of the school buildings, and leaped up onto a recessed windowsill, out of the immediate sight of anyone coming around the corner…and waited. 

He came panting after her, a few seconds later, anxious not to let her get out of sight. Then, not seeing her, he stopped suddenly. Hideo, of course. 

She cleared her throat deliberately. He jumped, looked around—and saw her, almost eye-to-eye, only a few centimetres away on the sill. She reached out a paw deliberately—hating herself for doing it, but knowing that this had to end—and scratched his face. Not too deeply, but enough to draw a little blood. 

He stared at her, his face white. She said two words: "No more." 

Then she jumped to the ground and streaked away at full speed, ducking and weaving around people, too fast and too erratic for him to follow even if he tried. He would not try, though, she knew. She had just lost an ally. 

She hoped she hadn't made an enemy.

- - -

Hideo watched her go. He touched his face gingerly, brought his fingers away bloody. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and scrubbed the tiny wound, wincing a little. 

Then he took a deep breath. Squared his jaw. And set out after her again. He had been longing for this all his life, and she was not going to keep him out of it. No way. 

* * *

  

Still laughing and taking playful swipes at each other, Miyo and Dhiti found a spot to sit down and pulled out their bento boxes. _Thank the kami for friends,_ Miyo thought wryly. _Talk about a self-pity attack._

Somewhere in the middle of the mock-fight, it had all finally become clear to her. All right, so she'd lived two lives before. So she was (at least in a sense) hundreds of years old, and stuck back in school. But she also had the memories of _this_ life, firm and clear. She still had her friends of _this_ life. She still _had_ a life. Why hadn't she seen it before? 

Anyway, this third time around might be a golden opportunity. With all those centuries of experience behind her, she might be able to get through life without getting into fights all the time. With a little more dignity. Without making any stupid mistakes. 

Then she opened her bento box, smiled in anticipation at the food inside, and absent-mindedly recited the old Callistan blessing that she'd been taught as a child in the Silver Millennium. "Immarha segni aurien 'da spei, mai segni 'da limm spei, far chiël tekel spei—" 

She noticed Dhiti staring at her, and suddenly realised what she was saying. 

Old habits die hard. 

She thought fast. "—and 'Klaatu barada nikto!'" she finished triumphantly. To her relief, Dhiti rolled her eyes and groaned. 

Thank goodness for old movies. Last month's release from the Archives had been a bizarre twentieth-century film called "The Day The Earth Stood Still" that had had all the girls in hysterics, laughing so hard they could barely make out the subtitles. (Though, oddly enough, she didn't seem to remember it as a comedy back in her last life. Now why was that?) 

"I was right," Dhiti grumbled. "You _are_ acting weird today." But then she mouthed 'Klaatu barada nikto' silently, and snickered. 

Miyo winked at her. "Can't let you take all the honours all the time," she said. 

_All right. Without making so __many_ stupid mistakes. 

* * *

  

The young man with the short blond hair and dark glasses was smiling broadly as he walked into the grocery store, and the owner gave him a welcoming smile in return. He looked polite, the owner said later; polite and respectful, and not the type to be wary of at all. This impression was shattered when the young man pulled out his gun. 

The shopkeeper gave the young man all the money he had in the shop, as ordered. He'd been robbed before, and knew better than to argue. But the young man didn't leave. Instead he simply waited—as if he expected something to happen. After a while, the owner tried to talk to him, ask him what he wanted, but he only waved the man back with his gun. 

After a quarter of an hour, the young man seemed to tire of it. He glanced around, raised his gun higher, and shot out every window in the shop. Then he picked up the money and left. 

* * *

  

"So how's she doing?" asked Itsuko. 

"Mm…" Artemis hesitated. "It's hard to say, actually. She was pretty upset, the morning after I restored her memories. But she'd cheered up by the time she got home from school. Since then, well, she's had a couple of days to settle down, but…" He closed his eyes, thinking. "I think she's confused, as much as anything. Having a hard time adjusting, perhaps." 

He glanced up at Itsuko. "It would help if I could bring her in to see you," he said pointedly. "Another old friend might—" 

Itsuko shook her head. "I'd rather avoid that, for the moment." 

"You keep saying that, but you never say why," Artemis complained. "Look, I'm doing what I can, but it's not easy! I could use some help here! I'm—" He paced back and forth, shaking his head, a picture of frustration. "I'm out of my depth. I can try to keep her company, try to give her a bit of perspective…try to talk to her about old times…but dammit, Rei, I'm not the one who should be doing this! You are! I never knew Makoto half as well as you did!" 

"Serve you right for spending all your time with Minako," Itsuko said unsympathetically. 

"Look, let's not get into that again, all right?" Artemis said, irritated. He'd gotten tired of _that_ particular joke more than two thousand years ago. Why did people have to bringing it up? Nobody ever blamed Luna for staying with Usagi all the time, did they? So why did everyone think there was something kinky going on with him and Minako? But it was just like Itsuko to keep rubbing his face in it after all these years. She probably thought it was just a friendly ribbing. 

"Sorry," Itsuko told him, sounding decidedly unapologetic. In a more serious tone she went on, "I'd have thought she'd be happy to have a familiar face to talk to, though." 

"It's not the same. Not for her. Luna and me, we were more the guardian type roles back then, you know? The mentor kind of thing—" Itsuko started snickering. "All right, but you know what I mean. I wasn't her _friend_. Not close." He stared up at her. "Not like you. Why won't you talk to her, Itsuko?" 

Itsuko turned her back and went to stand at the window, looking out. She did not speak for some time. Artemis watched her, concerned. Something was bothering her—a lot. He could see it in the tension in her back, the way her hands kept twitching as if she wanted to clench them into fists. He couldn't understand it. He'd been trying to persuade her to see Miyo for two days now, and all she'd give him was a flat refusal. 

"Why, Rei?" he added softly. 

"You don't understand," she whispered. "You don't…it's not that I don't want…oh, _damn_ it all," she cursed. She turned back, and he saw, finally, the pain and the regret in her eyes. "Artemis, the truth is, when it happened, when everything went to hell and she got killed, we…" She took a deep breath. "The truth is, Makoto and I, we hadn't spoken in more than fifteen years." 

"You…what?" Artemis stared at her. 

"It was just a silly argument. Nothing important at all. But…" She shifted uneasily. "It got out of hand…neither of us would back down, and…oh, it just went on and on! For weeks, whenever we saw each other, we'd just end up bringing it up again, and…and it just kept getting worse…we knew each other so well, we knew all the wrong things to say…we usually ended up shouting at each other…" 

"Rei—" 

She sat down heavily, staring fixedly at a point in mid-air. "One day I…it was my fault, I went too far…I said some horrible things to her, really horrible things, things I couldn't take back. And then she said—" She shook her head. "No. I don't want to think about what she said. Not ever again. And we fought, Artemis, we actually fought… 

"I think that was the worst thing I ever did. We'd been such friends, for so long—and all we could do was try to kill each other… 

"I don't remember how it ended. I truly don't. Nobody stopped us, I know that much. I don't think anyone else even knew. But finally…afterward…" She was silent for a moment. Her hands, folded before her on the table, were trembling. But her voice, though low, was steady as she said, "We avoided each other after that. We both knew there was no going back. It wasn't hard to keep it a secret from the others—she was overseas or off-planet a lot of the time, and hell, I often went weeks without seeing any of the others except you or Serenity—and neither of us wanted to admit what had happened. But…from that day until the Fall began, we never spoke. We tried never to be in the same room together. The few times we couldn't avoid each other, I could see that she hadn't forgotten a thing…and I'm sure she could see that I hadn't either…" 

"And you still can't forgive her?" said Artemis gently. "Is that it?" 

"Oh, Artemis, you idiot!" she snapped. "That was seven hundred years ago! Of course I can forgive her!" 

"What?" Artemis was taken aback. "But then I don't see—" 

She sighed. "You can be pretty dense sometimes, can't you?" Shaking her head, she said, "Artemis, think. It wasn't seven hundred years ago for _her_." 

"Oh!" Finally, he did see. "Oh." And he could think of nothing more to add. 

* * *

  

Masao walked out of the changing rooms slowly, his gear-bag slung over his shoulder. He groaned a little as he tried to flex his arms. Ochiyo gave him a sympathetic look as he went past the front desk, and he grinned wryly in return. He hobbled down the stairs to the ground floor, occasionally stopping to rub an aching muscle. 

Once he stepped through the front doors and out of sight, though, his whole demeanour changed. The tired, hangdog expression vanished, the limp and the sore feet were gone. He ducked into an alleyway and ran. 

The alley, and Masao, emerged into a back street behind the Olympus building. There was an beaten-up old van parked on the side of the road. It had apparently been abandoned: both rear wheels had been removed, and several of the side panels had been stolen. A thin, frayed cable hung from the roof to a nearby charging station, suggesting that somebody had taken up residence in the shell of the vehicle. But Masao ran toward it as if he were going to meet a lover. 

Inside, the van was rather different. Hiiro's people had fitted it out as an observation post. One wall was piled high with cartons of equipment. Wedged into the corner was Mitsukai's electronics gear. The opposite wall was devoted to a long desk that was covered with documents: membership lists for the Olympus, member profiles and photographs, surveillance reports, all the paperwork that a proper investigation demanded. We may be spending our time looking for a cat, the desk said, but we're experts and we're doing a damn good job of it. 

It was all very business-like and impressive, Masao knew, until you realised that most of the equipment cartons were filled with gym gear, and that for all of the 'S' Division team's clever techniques and effort, so far they hadn't discovered a thing. 

That was about to change, he thought triumphantly as he burst in through the rear doors. 

Hiiro looked up slowly. "Nice work, Kitada," he said in a dry tone. "Glad to see you're being so careful not to draw any attention to us. Like to try it again to see if you can make any _more_ noise?" 

"I've found something!" Masao shouted excitedly, paying no attention. 

"Oh, this I must hear," murmured Aoiro. 

Hiiro gave him a quick grin, then looked back to Masao. "All right," he sighed. "Let's hear it. What have you found this time?" 

Masao told him. 

The others stared at him for several seconds. Then Aoiro blinked. "Well, that's certainly a new one," he admitted. Kuroi cleared his throat and stretched out a hand, and he grimaced and passed over a banknote. 

Hiiro cleared his throat. "Seriously, Kitada—" he began. 

"But it's true!" Masao insisted. "I saw it!" 

"Kitada, what do you take me for? You seriously expect me to believe that you just saw one of Queen Serenity's chief advisors, who died hundreds of years ago, alive and well and hanging around a _gymnasium_, of all places?" 

"I saw it! It was Artemis! I'm certain!" 

"Keep talking, Kitada," advised Kuroi. "Insanity is a good way out of 'S' Division." 

"And what would Artemis be doing here?" demanded Aoiro. "Checking out all the female members, just in case any of them turn out to be Sailor Senshi?" He hesitated suddenly. "All right," he admitted, "so it's not such a wild idea as all that. But really—" 

"Too bad you didn't think to get a photo," jeered Kuroi. 

Masao jerked. "Photo!" he exclaimed. "That's it! That's what I was forgetting!" He started to rummage through his pockets. 

"I can't stand this…" Kuroi clutched his head as if in pain. 

Masao pulled out a tiny cylinder, about half the size of his thumb, and passed it to Mitsukai, who took it with evident reluctance. "Go on," he urged her. "Check it!" 

She glanced at Hiiro, who rolled his eyes and nodded. With a sigh of resignation, she pushed the data wand into the reader on her computer. A few touches on the computer screen opened the photo file from Masao's hidden camera. 

She blinked at the results. "What the hell?" she said. 

"What have you got?" Hiiro said, snapping alert. He walked over to the computer to see. Then he blinked too. "I'll be damned," he said. 

"What?" said Aoiro curiously. "Masao been raiding the women's changing rooms?" Then he saw Hiiro's expression. "What a moment—you don't mean he really—" 

There was a mass rush for the computer. Everyone crowded around, trying to see the screen. 

"I hate to admit it," Kuroi said reluctantly, "but that really does look like Artemis." 

Hiiro scratched his head. "Kitada, you haven't been playing with the graphics software—" He sighed. "No, silly of me. Sorry. Mitsukai, can you get anything more out of it? Enhance it or anything?" She shrugged and turned back to the computer, tapping the screen rapidly. 

"What are we going to do about it?" asked Aoiro. "I mean…well, what _do_ we do about something like this?" 

"Damned if I know," Hiiro admitted. "There aren't any procedures to cover something like this. I suppose I should report it in to headquarters, but…" 

"But?" prompted Aoiro. 

"Well…I'm not sure that it's any of our business. I mean, Sailor Senshi stuff…" He trailed off uncertainly. 

"You turning True Believer?" inquired Kuroi, grinning. 

"Knock it off, Ryozo," Hiiro said. "The Senshi are supposed to be the good guys, aren't they? If Artemis wants to check out the kids at the local gyms to see if any of them fit, well…I'd say, let him. He's not the cat we're after anyway, so why worry?" 

"How sure are we about that, though?" said Kuroi suddenly. "I mean, hell, what are we looking for? A cat with a mark on its forehead…" 

There was a brief silence as they all thought about it. "A round mark, we were told," said Aoiro at last. "Not a crescent. And a tabby cat, not white." 

"Quite a coincidence, though," Kuroi pointed out. 

"But—oh, come on!" Masao protested. "It's got to be a coincidence! If we were supposed to be looking for Moon Cats, they'd have told us!" 

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" agreed Hiiro. But he looked thoughtful. "I think we'd maybe better take a closer look. Keep a casual eye open…you know. We don't have to report it in, for now. Not unless it does suddenly turn out that we're looking for white cats as well. Until then, it's none of our business. But just in case—" 

He glanced around and saw agreement on most faces. Masao looked unhappy, but at last he too nodded. 

"All right, then. We'd better start by putting cameras on the windows, and getting a video feed on the most likely approaches—" 

* * *

  

"—So you're just going to wait and see?" finished Artemis. 

Itsuko nodded. "For now. We really need to get some idea of how she's settling down. If you can manage to get her into some action, that could be useful." She grinned. "It might help with our other problem, too. If Venus hears that she's around, she might show up, and we'd be able to get in contact with her." 

"And with Bendis," growled Artemis. 

"Now, now. Be nice." 

He snorted. "Oh, I'll be nice. You won't believe how nice I'll be. I'll be 'nice' to her until she begs for mercy…" Catching Itsuko's expression, he sighed. "Oh, I know. But she and I are going to have serious words, sooner or later." 

"Well…try not to leave any scars, hmm?" she said, grinning. "Hey, have you told Miyo about Venus and Bendis?" 

"No, not…exactly. I mean, she knows Venus is out there, of course, and she knows Bendis exists. But I've let her assume we're just working separately—like when I found Minako and Luna found the rest of you." 

Itsuko laughed at the thought. Looking out the window idly, she said, "Why not just tell her the truth? Too embarrassing?" 

"No! Well…I just want to handle this myself, you know? This is my great-granddaughter we're talking about here, after all!" 

"Have it your way." She shrugged. "I don't think it's that big a deal, but still, it's up to you." She glanced down to the street. "You know, someday you're going to have to tell me how you managed to have a great-granddaughter at all, with no other Moon Cats aro—What the hell?" 

Artemis looked up quickly. "What? What's wrong?" 

"Wait a minute." She went over to a chest of drawers and rummaged around for a moment. "Ah! There you are," she said, pulling out a small rectangular mirror. She went back to the window and, as Artemis watched, steadily more baffled, knelt just below it and used the mirror to look out. "Damn!" she swore. 

"What is it?" he asked again. 

"How careful were you when you came up here today?" 

He tried to remember. "About the usual, I think. Why?" 

"There's a man down there setting up cameras. Someone may have spotted you." 

Now it was Artemis' turn to say "Damn." "It couldn't be something else?" he said hopefully. 

She shrugged, retreating from the window. "Of course it could. But what are the odds? Look, you'd better slip out while you can. They can't have covered all the exits yet." 

He stared at her. "Aren't you overreacting a little?" 

"Quiet, I'm thinking. And no, I'm not overreacting. You really want the newsies on your back? Remember how it was back when we all went public the first time? We just have to hope that it's you they've spotted, not me. I can't move as easily as you can—" 

"Do you really think it's that serious?" Before Itsuko could reply, Artemis answered his own question. "No, you're right. We can't afford to take the risk. All right, I'll head back to Miyo's. Um…We'll need to arrange to meet—say, in a couple of days?" 

"Right. Where?" 

"Oh…make it the alley where you found me the other day. Eight o'clock in the evening. There's usually nobody around then." 

"All right. If you need me before then…" She sighed. "I guess there'll be no help for it. Get Miyo to call me. And I'll call her…if I have to." 

Artemis stared at her for a moment. The he said, "All right. Anything else?" She shook her head. "Goodbye, then. See you in two days…" 

He slipped out quietly. She watched him go, shaking her head. How had anybody found them, so soon? How? 

* * *

  

The young man had short blond hair and wore dark glasses. He was smiling broadly as he walked into the menswear shop, and the duty manager gave him a cheerful grin in return as he advanced to offer assistance. The grin vanished when the young man pulled out a gun. 

They emptied the cash registers as he ordered. As they did so, one of the counter staff triggered the silent alarm. Then they waited for him to pick up the bag and run out. But he didn't; instead, he stood, unmoving, still smiling, covering the three staff. And waited. 

After a few minutes, he suddenly seemed to come alive again. He lowered the gun, picked up the money-bag and left. On the way out, he paused to break the duty manager's arm. 

Thirty seconds later, the police rushed in. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER FOUR**

**Next:** A battle, a meeting of Senshi, and a taste of further troubles to come…

Thanks to my pre-reader, Sandy Drobic. 


	6. Chapter 5: Baptism of Fire

**What has gone before:** It's the year 4200. More than seven hundred years ago, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet-unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the mysterious evil. All over the world, civilisation fell. Then, one hundred years ago, a great renaissance began. Today the city of Third Tokyo is the centre of a new world order ruled by the shadowy Serenity Council. 

Artemis survived the final battle; now he and his great-granddaughter Bendis are searching for a new generation of Senshi. Shortly after they argue and split up, Bendis discovers the new Sailor Venus: a young girl, McCrea Beth, at a nearby school. She decides to train Beth on her own. 

Venus' first exploits are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction. Some people hate her; some want to worship her. Frightened and upset, Venus runs. The Serenity Council, already hunting for Bendis, make plans to deal with Venus too. 

Meanwhile Artemis asks an old friend to help find Bendis again: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, who also survived the fall of Crystal Tokyo. Now powerless, she tries to avoid recognition, taking the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko, owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. But her efforts to help Artemis draw attention, and a security team begins a secret investigation of the Olympus. When the team see Artemis at the gym they decide not to report it—yet; but Itsuko (who has had visions suggesting that the evil that destroyed Crystal Tokyo is beginning to move again) realises that she is being watched and sends Artemis away. 

Sailor Pluto secretly alters records to obstruct the investigation of the Olympus. And Artemis finds another schoolgirl, Hayashi Miyo, who is Kino Makoto, Sailor Jupiter, reborn. But when he tries to re-awaken her memories, he accidentally restores her memories of the Silver Millennium as well… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER FIVE  
Baptism of Fire:  
Together Again for the First Time**

How to begin? 

Bendis took a deep breath and said, "Beth, we need to talk." 

She had been prowling the room for hours, trying to decide what to do. This crisis had been building for too long. Beth had been upset after her disastrous second public appearance as Sailor Venus; but Bendis had hoped that she'd get over it, bounce back, become her old self again. 

It didn't seem to be working. For the third day in a row, Beth had come straight home from school, barely grunted in response to her mother's greeting, thrown her bag into the corner, and lain down on her bed. Not saying anything, or doing anything. Just lying there. 

Her parents were worried, Bendis knew. She had heard them talking in hushed voices when they thought they were alone. At first they'd thought Beth had just had an argument with her boyfriend; but it had gone far beyond that point. They had begun to mention the word "psychiatrist." Bendis couldn't blame them, really; their daughter was trying to shut out the world, and they didn't know why. 

Bendis knew why. Whether she would be able to get Beth to snap out of it was another matter. In the end, all she could think of was: "Beth, we need to talk." 

For some time there was no reply. At last Beth rolled over on her bed and said flatly, "What do you want?" 

_Oh, boy. Worse than I thought._ Bendis fervently wished she were somewhere else. Aloud she replied, "Look, I know you're still upset about the other night—" 

Beth rolled back, facing the wall once more. Her voice was muffled as she said, "I don't want to talk about it." 

Bendis jumped up onto the bed, padding around the girl's feet until they were face-to-face once more. "I know you don't," she said. "But this can't go on. You've got to pull yourself together. Look, it's not always going to be like that!" 

"No?" Beth sat up suddenly. "What if it's worse? Bendis, she hated me! You didn't see! That woman hated me! What if they throw things at me next time? What if they do that?" 

Bendis did not answer at once. Then she said slowly, "That's not what you're worried about, is it? It's…the other one." 

Beth turned away again. "Shut up." 

"The one who wanted to worship you." 

"I said shut up!" Her face was pale, and she was breathing quickly. "That's not what he—" She swallowed, hard. "He didn't—no, he—he—" 

Bendis reached out and touched her arm with one paw. "Beth, it's all right—" 

"No!" Beth started to cry. "No! It's not all right. It's…it's _wrong_! He shouldn't—I'm not—Oh, Bendis, what am I going to do? He thought I'm some kind of goddess like Queen Serenity, but I'm not, I'm just ordinary, and I don't want this any more…" She buried her face in her pillow, shaking silently. 

_What am I supposed to do now?_ Bendis thought in dismay. _How do I handle this? Dammit, Artemis would know what to do—he'd know just the right thing to say…_

Yeah, Artemis would play the voice of sweet reason, and cajole her out of her misery somehow. Bendis wasn't too hot on sweet reason, though. 

_Hmm._

Bendis thought about it. Then, very deliberately, she leaned forward and bit Beth's arm. 

"OWWW!" Beth sat bolt-upright, clutching the wounded spot. Bendis scooted back hurriedly. "WHADDYA DO THAT FOR!" 

"Well, it stopped you crying," Bendis said innocently. She dodged a pillow. "Now listen to me. There's something very important you have to know." 

Beth hesitated, the book in her hand cocked to throw. "What?" she said suspiciously. 

"Firstly, self-pity is very unattractive." Bendis dodged again. "Secondly, Queen Serenity wasn't a goddess. Right?" 

"I know that!" Beth said crossly. 

"Really? A minute ago you said she was. Change your mind?" 

"I mean—" Beth stopped, confused. "No, what I meant was…she wasn't a…she was…I don't _know_ what I meant!" 

Bendis stared her in the eye. "Beth, listen to me. Queen Serenity was not a goddess. She was a human being. She started off as a girl just like—well, not too different from you. She laughed, she cried, she…she loved ice cream. A lot of things happened to her, a lot of changes, but in the end…all the way…she was a human being. She was not a goddess. And neither are you." 

The relief, the hope in Beth's eyes was inexpressible. But some doubt remained. "But—the officer, he said—" 

Bendis snorted. "Oh, sure. So what? So he's a bonehead. Why should _you_ care?" 

Beth stared at her. Then she snorted. Then—finally—she smiled.

- - -

Later, after dinner, they talked again. Beth lay on her bed and made a show of doing her homework, just in case her mother or father decided to check if she was all right; but after a few minutes of cursory effort the exercise books were closed, the pencils and erasers put away. 

"Your parents looked a lot happier," observed Bendis. 

Beth raised her eyebrows. Come to think of it, that was true. They _had_ seemed a lot more cheerful. Her father had seemed relieved, for some reason, when she thanked him for passing a dish; and when she cleared her plate, her mother had actually offered her seconds. 

"Do you think they've been worried?" she wondered aloud. She hadn't really noticed. But then, she hadn't been noticing much for a while. 

"Worried?" Bendis sounded annoyed for some reason. "No, what would they have to worry about? Their only child doesn't speak to them for three days, barely eats, lies in her room all the time doing nothing—what's there to worry about?" 

"Oh." Beth considered it. "I suppose I'll have to tell them something. Make up some kind of excuse." 

"Very good. Try to make it a convincing one, all right?" 

"Hmm." Beth fell into a reverie. What might her parents believe? They already thought she had a boyfriend, so something to do with that would probably work. And really, she realised, it was sort of true: she did have a boyfriend. Or at least, it was only a matter of time. After all, Eitoku was her friend now, wasn't he? That was something a bit more pleasant to think about. Sooner or later he was bound to see how much they were meant to be together, and come and sweep her off her feet. It was inevitable. 

How to hasten that day? She smiled, a little dreamily. It was an old, familiar fantasy, that one. How to make him Notice Her. How to make him Realise how much he Needed Her. (There was a notebook hidden in the back of one of her drawers in which she sometimes wrote down some of her more interesting fantasies, and the poetry that she couldn't bear to tear up. Most of the fantasies, and virtually all the poetry, had a common subject. Fortunately, Bendis couldn't open drawers.) 

Let's see, how should it be? A prince on a white horse, galloping up and taking her away to the palace of her dreams? That was a nice one. But lately she had been beginning to think that it was rather…well, juvenile. Soppy, even. The one where Eitoku saved her from terrible danger, now, that was better. So many dramatic variations to choose from. He could step in to defend her from the ruffians who wanted to make some kind of (unspecified) attack on her (undoubted) virtue. Or he could leap to save her from being hit by a runaway truck. Rather like how she'd saved Bendis, actually. Hmm. Or he could rescue her from the villains who held her hostage when they tried to rob a bank. The way she'd rescued the hostage at the jeweller's… 

Lately, she was beginning to have a completely new, utterly delicious kind of fantasy. One in which _she_ saved _Eitoku_ from terrible danger. 

It was amazing how satisfying that was. How much _better_ it was that way. The look of admiration and respect in his eyes as he stared at his saviour was just so sweet. So thrilling. It made her feel strong. Alive. Confident. Powerful. 

And that was the thing about being Sailor Venus, of course. Because Sailor Venus was strong, and fast, and agile, and had special powers. Sailor Venus was her fantasies come to life. Sailor Venus was a Senshi, someone who didn't have to be meek and polite and (admit it) alone all the time. When she was Sailor Venus she didn't have to be afraid. She could do anything. Say anything. Be anything. 

She liked that. And she feared it. 

"Beth? Beth, are you all right?" 

She opened her eyes with a start. Bendis was staring at her, looking anxious. (How could a cat look anxious? But Bendis _did_.) "Uh, what did you say?" she stuttered. 

"You were just staring off into space. I thought—well, never mind. Did you have any ideas?" 

"Er." Beth thought frantically. "If I tell them I had an argument with my boyfriend?" It wasn't very good, but the best she could come up with on short notice. 

Bendis sighed. "Oh, well, it'll probably work," she said. 

_It will?_ thought Beth, startled. Bendis went on, "You humans and your relationships…why do you let them get you so twisted around? You should try the cat way—" 

She stopped suddenly, and was silent for some time. Then, sounding almost angry, she said, "No, you shouldn't. Forget I just said that. Nobody should…" She stopped again. 

"Bendis, are you all right?" said Beth, staring at her. 

"I'm _fine_," said Bendis savagely. "Just forget it, will you?" 

Suddenly it became clear to Beth. Her mouth opened in an O of surprise. "You did, didn't you?" she said. "You had a…a relationship…and you—" 

"Me?" Bendis stared at her. "_Me_? Of course not. Who on earth would _I_ have a relationship with? Another cat? An _Earth_ cat? Don't be ridiculous. It would be…obscene." 

Beth frowned. "But—" 

"Forget it, I said," Bendis snarled. Then, in a very obvious effort to change the subject, she said, "Look, it's still pretty early. Why don't we go out? Do a patrol. Get a bit more training in. You know." 

Beth tried to hide her flinch. "Maybe not tonight," she said, as calmly as she could manage. "I've got quite a lot of homework—it's been building up…" She trailed off. 

It wasn't so easy, she realised glumly. She couldn't just put it behind her and forget about it. The spectre of the disaster at the jeweller's was still with her. 

When she dared to glance up at Bendis once more, she saw that the cat was looking at her steadily. "You can't hide forever, Beth," Bendis told her quietly. She turned, padded silently over to the window, sprang up onto the sill and leaped out. 

Beth watched her go, biting her lip. She took a deep breath, held it, and let it out once more. Then, shaking her head in defeat, she picked up her books, opened them again and set to work. She did her homework in complete silence. 

_Not forever, no. But just a little while longer…_

* * *

  

"Oh, not that stuff again," Artemis said, groaning. "I hate it. It tastes like…you don't want to know what it tastes like." 

"Don't blame me," snapped Miyo. "I didn't buy it. And it has to get used up somehow." 

"Can't you persuade your mother to get something else? Or buy something else yourself?" He watched as she spooned some of the stuff out into his food dish, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

"Are you kidding? She wasn't exactly happy when I told her I wanted to keep you." Artemis muttered something about 'keeping' but she ignored him. "I'm pretty sure she's not going to want to shell out for gourmet cat food. Can't you just, I dunno, catch mice or something?" 

"Thank you _so_ much. Do you have any idea what the average city mouse tastes like?" 

Miyo shrugged. "I never thought about it before." 

"Imagine my surprise. Field mice, now, out in the countryside, that's different. But here in town, most of them live on garbage and all sorts of—well, never mind that." After a moment he added, "Chase them, okay. But eat them?" He sighed. "Well, I've done it when I had to. Frankly, this stuff is five-star by comparison." 

Miyo scowled at him. "You know, _I_ haven't eaten yet. Can we find something else to talk about?" 

"Ha! And we both know what sort of food _you'll_ be eating. Who's cooking tonight? You or your mother?" He saw her flush, and gave a cat grin. "What was I saying about five-star?" 

"Look, I get the message, all right? I'll see if I can afford to get another brand of cat food. Just remember, I'm not made of money!" 

"Um, thanks," Artemis said, slightly embarrassed. "Look, don't let me distract you. Remember what happened the day before yesterday—" 

"Don't remind me." She had gotten too involved in her cooking, and ended up with a dish that nobody had eaten in millennia. It had been good—nobody had denied that—but afterward, her mother had thrown a minor fit when she found out what the main ingredient was. 

Miyo brightened suddenly. "Hey, maybe I should write a book. A recipe book, I mean. 'Recipes of the Silver Millennium.'" 

"Hmm, that could be—" Artemis did a double-take. "What? Makoto, have you lost your mind? I mean, Miyo—" 

"Guess not, huh?" Miyo shrugged. "Oh, well." She grinned at him. "And watch the name, you. That's the last thing I need: anybody putting me together with 'Lady Kino.' It's bad enough I look the same as before; I don't need the extra attention." 

"You don't have to worry about how you look, actually," he told her. "You have the same kind of protection you used to have. You remember, the old 'don't-notice' effect? People might realise you look a bit like Sailor Jupiter—or Kino Makoto—but they wouldn't think any more of it than that." 

Though that, he thought but did not say aloud, was an advantage that Itsuko did not have. Not any more. Her protection had been broken, over two thousand years ago. For the twentieth time that day, he wondered if she was safe. 

"I've been thinking about that," said Miyo slowly. "Looking the same, I mean. Does it always work that way? That we get reborn looking like we did before?" 

Artemis shrugged. "In your case, I'd say so. Your rebirth each time was magical, done by the power of the Ginzuishou. For a more normal kind of reincarnation, probably not…but for you Senshi, it looks like you're staying pretty much the same." 

"That's what I thought." Miyo hesitated. "Artemis…this Sailor Venus who's been in the news. She doesn't look like Minako-chan." 

Artemis did not answer at once. At last he said, "I wondered if you'd noticed that." 

She swallowed. "I thought—well, that if I'd been reborn, the others must have been too. But…" 

With a sigh he said, "But no. I'm sorry, Miyo. I miss her too." 

"I miss all of them," she said in a low voice. Then: "Artemis, what happened? After I…died?" 

"Miyo—" 

"Tell me. Please." 

"Slaughter is what happened," Artemis said bluntly. "Miyo, you really don't want to hear it." He shook his head. "In the end, there was only Serenity left. But that's the way it always went, wasn't it?" He laughed humourlessly. "Only this time, it wasn't such a happy ending. By the time she broke free, it was too late. In her last moments, she was trying to do what her mother did. To send her people forward…" 

Looking up at her he said, "I don't know why it came out like this. Maybe it was because of what had been done to the Ginzuishou. Maybe it's just that she ran out of time. Maybe…maybe a lot of things. But you made it. And Minako didn't. I'm sorry. That girl out there isn't her. Minako is dead. I'm sorry," he repeated, almost in a whisper. 

He felt Miyo's hand on his head, his back, stroking him. They were silent for some time. 

At last Miyo said, "So what's she like? The new girl, I mean. Is she any good? What's her name?" 

"I don't know," he admitted, then yelped as her hand stiffened suddenly. "Ow! Careful! Look, it's complicated. Venus is with my great-granddaughter. I haven't actually met her yet." 

Miyo gave him a suspicious look. "There's something you're not telling me." 

"Don't worry," Artemis hedged. "We'll be getting you two together soon, I promise." _Right after I find Bendis,_ he added silently. 

"Hmm." She did not look entirely convinced, but to his relief she let it go. "I thought you said this…Bendis?…was pretty young. I'm surprised you'd let her take something like this on." 

"Bendis…well, Bendis has a lot to prove," Artemis said carefully. "To herself as well as to others. She was, ahh, rather insistent about doing it by herself, and she seems to be doing well enough so far." 

_I hope. There hasn't been a sign of Venus in the news for more than a week now—_

Miyo shrugged. "I suppose you know her best." With a grin she added, "It's hard to imagine you as a great-grandfather though. Hey, what kind of name is Bendis, anyway—?" 

They heard the front door open. "Whoops," said Artemis. With a sigh, he stepped up to his food dish, sniffed at it disgustedly, and began to eat just as the kitchen door opened and Ichiyo came in. 

"Hi, sis," he said cheerfully. "Are you cooking again? Hey, can you do some more of those purple things you did the other night? What do you call them, anyway? They were pretty good." 

"Spiced Europan slugs." 

"Yeah, right. Come on, what were they really?" 

Artemis decided the rest of the cat food could wait. He didn't need to hear any more of this. 

* * *

  

A young man with short blond hair, dark glasses and a charming smile walked into an upmarket restaurant that evening, pointed a gun at the woman at the reception desk and invited her to hand over the night's takings. They came to quite a respectable amount. But instead of leaving, he stood waiting, as the diners and the staff watched him and cowered. As if he were expecting someone. 

Eventually, someone in the kitchens called the police. A few seconds before they arrived, the young man suddenly ran out. On his way, he fired at one of the patrons, hitting her in the leg. 

* * *

  

It was after midnight. Itsuko stood in her office for some time, staring out the window. The city was a shifting maze of light: vehicle headlamps, crawling through the streets below, tracing out intricate, unpredictable paths like earthbound fireflies; the pale-blue street lights, cutting their long, straight lines and arcs through the darkness; now and then, the guide-lights of an Opal, sweeping across the city; and everywhere, constellations of office windows, still glowing even at this hour. 

Glowing like her own window was, she realised, and laughed softly. She crossed the room, turned the light off, then returned to the window. The sight always entranced her. It was _alive_, alive in a way quite unrelated to human life. The life of a city, measured in the dancing and flickering of its lights. For a moment, she was reminded of a beehive; but then she rejected the thought. It wasn't the metaphor she was looking for. 

She remembered other cities. The frenetic life of the Tokyo of her youth: similar in so many ways, and yet uniquely different. Lost in time, but forever near in her memory: full of childhood and friends and so many many beginnings. Grandparent to this city, perhaps. And then Crystal Tokyo: stately, elegant, but also vibrant, alive, ebullient. A city of light and life and love and wonder, where romance and beauty were queen. Night-time had been magical, then. 

Until, seven hundred years before, the lights had gone out all over the world. They continued to glow in Crystal Tokyo for a little longer: perhaps two months, before the final end. And then, for so long, the night had been merely dark. 

A hundred years ago, the first of the lights began to return. She had been a long way away at the time, living quietly under a different name. But when she heard of the rebirth of Tokyo—of the rebirth of so much more than just Tokyo—she came. Like so many others, she came; and today Third Tokyo, like Crystal Tokyo before it, was the centre of the world. Today, it was almost as if nothing had ever changed. Almost. 

The difference was that now she knew how easily those lights could go out. 

Back then, there had been Senshi to defend the light. They had failed. Now the light was back, and the Senshi were returning; only two of them so far, but there would be more. But when the darkness struck again, would the outcome be any different? 

She wished she could talk to Artemis about it. She wished she dared talk to Makoto. 

* * *

  

So she was up past midnight again, finishing off her homework. Sharma Dhiti yawned, and stretched. Was it her fault there weren't enough hours in the day? 

Well, it didn't matter. She didn't need that much sleep anyway. She'd catch a nap at lunchtime tomorrow, or something. Hayashi would probably think it was funny. 

All the same, it would be nice to get to bed. She sighed, staring down at what she'd just written. She had a feeling that Komagata-sensei wasn't going to like it. 

_"Animals may be classified as herbivorous, carnivorous, omnivorous or bodacious. Herbivores eat plants, carnivores eat meat, and omnivores eat both; while bodacious animals are too cool to eat anything at all, and generally starve to death at an early age."_

It did have a nice ring to it. Perhaps she'd leave it in, and see what happened. It would be a shame to waste a good line, after all. 

She stifled another yawn. Her father had sharp ears, and he'd get pretty upset if he realised she was still up, and why. Then there'd be more sarcastic lectures about how she wasn't living up to her potential, how she could be so much more… 

It didn't matter. None of that mattered. Sure, she could do better in school, but really, why bother? Her marks were all right: not great, but better than average. She could be top of the class if she wanted, but putting in all the effort that'd take would be a pain. What was the point? 

Especially when there were so many other, more interesting ways to spend her time. She had her sport—the running team, and the fencing. And she was a member of the go, chess and bridge clubs. And she collected coins; and she'd been working on the school newspaper (but that was getting kind of dull now); and she'd been a stage hand at a couple of plays; and she'd started (and abandoned) trumpet lessons; and she was getting pretty good at soap-carving; and she'd taught herself to juggle; and she'd learned a bit about photography; and all that was just in the last six months. And there was a meteorology evening class starting in a few weeks that sounded interesting; and there was this really weird thing from England called Morris Dancing that she was dying to have a go at. And so many, many other things waiting to be done. There was no end to the number of things she could do, and Dhiti was determined to try them all. 

She sighed again. Why couldn't her father understand that? Why could none of them understand? Her father, her teachers—they all wanted her to steady down, apply herself, pick something and stick with it. Commit herself. But there were so many things to try, so many possibilities to explore. How could she bear to tie herself down to just one path, restrict herself like that? 

They kept telling her to choose what she wanted to be. But Dhiti wanted to be everything. 

She grinned suddenly, her black mood of a moment before gone as quickly as it had come. If they didn't understand her—well, that was all right, too. Just let them try to bind her. She was too quick for them, too smart. Nobody would ever tie her down. Nobody could catch her. Nobody could touch her. She was as slippery as an eel. 

No. She was as slippery as ice. 

* * *

  

'M' Division had a number of maintenance and manufacturing plants dotted around Third Tokyo. Most of them were innocuous enough: public transport depots, repair shops for the fleet of city-works vehicles operated by 'C' Division, and the like. One of them, though, was a bit more than it seemed. There were palm-print readers at the doors, for a start. And, though they weren't obvious, there were security guards on duty, night and day. 

This was the plant where they built and maintained Opals; and 'M' Division was very protective of the secret of the field generators that made the vehicles fly. 

Just before ten o'clock in the morning, a strikingly beautiful woman with long, green-black hair walked in through the front gate. As she entered the lobby she stopped, seemingly confused. Then she approached a tall, heavy-set man who was waiting there. "Excuse me," she said diffidently. "Are you Takekawa Yutaka?" 

He gave her a broad smile with more than a hint of a leer. "You're from head office?" he inquired. At her nod, his smile widened. "Excellent. You're a few minutes early, but we may as well begin. This way." 

As they stepped to the door she brought out her ID card, but he held up a hand. "No—allow me." She gave him a smile that set his pulse throbbing, but allowed him to insert his card and palm the lock. "I'll give you a quick tour before we…get down to business," he said. The door clicked shut behind them. 

Four minutes later, another woman entered the lobby. She seemed quite annoyed that nobody was waiting for her.

- - -

Takekawa guided the visitor briskly through the plant. She showed a lively interest in the work being carried out, surprising him a little. But then, the intelligent ones were often the best, he thought. And she did seem…impressed by what she saw. 

The doors to one of the maintenance bays were closed, apparently sealed. As they passed, the visitor asked, "What's in this one?" 

"That?" Takekawa tried to remember. "Oh. They're doing an upgrade to the sensor suite on an Opal in there. Some kind of prototype, I think. I don't know why they have it secured. We'd better skip this one, though." 

"Oh, can't we see?" She gave him an appealing look. 

He was all set to lead her away…but somehow, she looked so disappointed that he found himself saying, "Well, I'm sure it won't matter if we take just a quick look." After all, he told himself, it didn't really matter. What could be so secret about a mere sensor upgrade, anyway? 

He palmed the lock, entered an override code, and they went in. The visitor gave an oooh of surprise. There was an Opal laid out on the work floor, half-disassembled. The domed roof had been lifted off, and the seats and equipment lockers and most of the control boards removed, leaving a mass of tangled components visible, strewn haphazardly over every available surface. A team of six men and women were hard at work on the machine's innards. At a long workbench at the rear of the bay, another three, wearing optical enhancement visors, were working on a stack of circuit cards, delicately removing chips and replacing them with new ones. 

As they went in, the shift leader stood up with a curse and came over to demand what they wanted. Takekawa took him aside to explain. The visitor didn't seem to notice the argument that followed; she wandered around the room, peering uncomprehendingly at bundles of fibre-optic cables and delicate field-grid wafers. She stopped to talk to one of the men at the workbench, asking him a series of rather inane questions, which (after she smiled at him) he was happy enough to answer. 

—In the midst of the confusion, nobody really noticed it when the visitor's hand rested on the workbench for a moment, next to a set of new microchips waiting to be installed. And afterward, when she was gone, the chips were all still there, so obviously no harm had been done. 

A few moments later, Takekawa collected his visitor, apologetically explaining that they really shouldn't have been in that bay after all. She took it with good grace, and they continued on their tour. 

At last, they ended in Takekawa's office. He closed the door carefully behind them, smiled at her, and stepped forward, reaching for her— 

She smiled back and said brightly, "I'm so grateful for all the trouble you've gone to. I didn't think couriers got the red-carpet treatment like this." 

Takekawa stopped dead. "Couriers?" he said stupidly. 

"Mm." She lifted her satchel. "Let's see…I was supposed to bring you this set of reports from Iwasaki-san, and there are two packages for Chikanatsu Kimie—she's here, isn't she?—and—" 

"You're a courier?" he demanded. "But I thought—" He had a sudden vision of another visitor—his real visitor—arriving in the lobby, and waiting in vain. She would be long gone now, of course. Lost opportunities swam before his eyes. He groaned in despair. 

"Are you all right, Takekawa-san?" she asked anxiously. 

"Fine," he managed. "I'm fine…" He took the reports she had offered him, managed to smile in thanks, and directed her to Chikanatsu's office. He heard the door close behind her as she left, but did not look up. 

Ten minutes later the visitor—the name on her ID card was Fumihiko Sadako—left the building, still smiling. As she went out of sight of the gate, though, the smile vanished, as suddenly as if it had been switched off. She pulled something out of her pocket, tossed it casually to the ground, and stepped on it. It was a microchip. 

Just for a moment, a very different kind of smile hovered on her lips. She used the tools she needed to do the job. Today, it was a pretty face—and, as always, knowing the precise moment to act. 

She could still do everything she had to do. Who needed a time staff? 

* * *

  

"Well, look who's showing her face," said Nanako as Beth approached the trio. Eitoku glanced up from his book, grunted, then went back to his reading. Iku raised her eyebrows, but did not speak. 

"Um, hi," Beth said a little nervously, glancing at Eitoku. 

"Oh, you're talking again!" Nanako exclaimed. "That's nice. You've been like a robot for the last few days. Something wrong?" 

"Oh, er, not really," answered Beth, smiling feebly. "I just, um, had something on my mind, that's all." 

Nanako raised her eyebrows. "Mind?" she repeated. "Who needs 'em? Look, whatever it was, forget it. Just lie back and relax. The sun's shining, it's a nice day—who needs anything else?" 

Eitoku lifted his head once more. "Some of us," he commented, "have slightly better things to do than lying around in the sun all day." 

"Like what? What could be better than that?" Nanako asked. 

"Ice cream," Iku murmured. Beth overheard and grinned at her. She looked surprised, then hesitantly smiled back. 

"Like learning something," said Eitoku earnestly. "Getting an education. Improving yourself. Trying to be something _more_ than…than—" 

"Than someone who knows when it's time to sit back and relax?" Nanako suggested. 

"There's a big difference between relaxing now and then, and doing nothing _but_ relaxing!" he protested. 

"Looks like nothing much has changed here," muttered Beth to herself. Didn't those two _ever_ stop arguing? Sometimes she wondered why they always ended up together at lunch breaks. 

But then, she realised, where else did they have to go? Neither of them really had any other friends; Nanako was too lazy and bubble-headed, and Eitoku never seemed to have time for anything but his books. And Iku, too; she fit the pattern. She seemed so painfully shy that it could be an ordeal just speaking to her. In a weird kind of way, it made sense that the three would end up together. 

Then it occurred to her that she seemed to fit the pattern too. She wasn't sure that she cared for the thought. But she did seem to have gradually fallen into being part of the group— 

"—lo? Beth-chan? You alive in there?" She suddenly realised that Nanako was waving a hand in front of her eyes. "What'd I tell you, Eitoku-kun? Too much schoolwork, that's her problem." 

"Um, hello?" said Beth plaintively. 

"Oh, you're back. You see, Eitoku-kun? Too much stress. All the effort of trying to get her homework done is making her have blackouts. Just lie back and relax, Beth-chan. Let your brain cool off. Hey, you should bring that little kitten back to school. That'd help you relax." 

"I'm not so sure about that," muttered Beth. 

"Oh, come on. It'd help _me_ relax. How come you had to be the one it picked, instead of me? You Clavers have all the luck." 

"Hey!" Eitoku said indignantly. 

"What? Did I say something wrong? It's just what you were saying, a couple of weeks ago, when we saw Beth-chan spying on you—" 

"Hey!" Beth said indignantly. Then she blushed. 

"Oh, did I say something wro—wow, look at that! It's happening again!" 

"What?" Beth looked around, following Nanako's pointed finger, just in time to see somebody duck out of sight behind a tree. 

"Another secret admirer!" said Nanako delightedly. "Oh, this is so good. I wonder which one of us he's watching?" 

"Who was it?" asked Iku, looking interested. 

"Some kid. Why, do you like them young?" Iku looked horrified, but Nanako carried on obliviously. "Naah, you'd be robbing the cradle. He couldn't have been more than twelve." 

"Nana-chan…" began Beth. 

Nanako winked. "Relax. I'm kidding." She lay back in the grass once more, a broad smile on her face. "This is great," she said happily. "Things are getting really interesting around here. Secret admirers…Sailor Senshi…what next?" 

"Oh, not Sailor Senshi again," groaned Eitoku. "You don't still believe that, do you? It was a hoax!" 

Beth looked up at him, startled. "A hoax?" 

He groaned. "Not another believer. Come on, why else hasn't she appeared for more than a week? You must have seen that police tape they played on the news. The police caught her at it, told her off, and she ran for it." 

"But—" Beth began. 

"Oh, relax," Nanako interrupted. "Eitoku isn't going to believe in a Senshi unless he sees her face-to-face. Anyway, if Chairman Fukuda says it was a hoax, it has to be a hoax, right? Right?" 

"Just because you don't think much of the Serenity Council—" said Eitoku hotly. 

"I didn't say that. Did you hear me say that?" said Nanako in a mocking tone. She sighed. "Though if it's a hoax, I suppose they ought to know." Then, suddenly, she looked over at Beth, a mischievous grin on her face. "Y'know, Beth-chan, it's a pity about that kitten of yours. If only it'd had a crescent moon on its forehead, instead of that round patch! Think how close you came!" 

Beth flushed, feeling Nanako watch her with interest as she floundered for words. "I suppose so," she said at last. "Though I hardly think _I'm_ Senshi material." And that, she thought glumly, might very well be true. 

"Oh, I don't know," Nanako mused. "Lady Mizuno was supposed to be the quiet sort, wasn't she?" She laughed. "Now if it was Sailor Mercury out there, not Sailor Venus, we'd know for sure!" 

Iku and Eitoku laughed too, and Beth tried to join in. It felt false. _Sailor Mercury wouldn't have just run away,_ she thought. _She was so smart. She'd have known what to do._ But of course, Sailor Venus—the old Sailor Venus, Lady Aino—would have known what to do, too. _Maybe I'm __not_ Senshi material. Maybe Bendis should try to find someone else… 

The bell rang, and they headed back in to class. As Beth walked, still wrapped up in her misery, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked around, startled. It was Eitoku. 

"Listen, you don't want to let Nanako get to you," he said. "That crack about Clavers got you pretty upset, right?" 

Beth simply stared at him. He seemed to take that as an affirmative, and went on. "Well, I said something like that once too, and I'm sorry. But look: Nanako, she just does it to be outrageous. You shouldn't take it personally. Just—well, maybe you should try hitting back. Argue with her. She won't mind." 

Suddenly looking embarrassed, he nodded once to her and hurried away. Beth watched him go, feeling almost light-headed. He cared; he had actually spoken to her! He had said— 

She found herself thinking about what he had said. _Maybe you should try hitting back._ That struck a chord, somewhere. That was what— 

That was what Lady Aino would have done. That was what a real Sailor Venus would have done. She would have hit back. She would never have run. She would have hit back, and she would have won. 

Maybe Beth should give it a try. 

* * *

  

The young man with the short blond hair and dark glasses robbed a licensed betting agency. After he filled a canvas bag with money he hung around for some time, as if waiting for something. A few seconds before the police arrived he suddenly left. On his way out he shot two people, one of them seriously. 

As he stepped out of the door, he sniffed the air. He smelt smoke. 

* * *

  

Miyo made her way out through the crowd milling around the school gate. Another school day over. She stretched, sighing. Another day spent learning things she half-remembered already. Another boring day. 

At least she was doing better at not drawing attention to herself. She'd only made a couple of mistakes today, and she thought that nobody had noticed either of them. At this rate, pretty soon she'd be able to relax and feel "normal" again. Or as normal as she could be— 

A movement caught her eye. She glanced up, and saw Artemis standing on the fence nearby. She walked over and said, "What are you doing here? I thought you were trying to stay out of sight." 

"Oh, I just felt like some fresh air," he answered vaguely. He was not looking at her, she realised; he was watching the other students coming out the gate. "It gets stuffy in the house, you know." 

"Yeah, right," she said impatiently. "Come on, the day before yesterday you were so sure that you were in danger, and suddenly you're just strolling around in the open? When are you going to tell me what's going on?" 

He did not take his eyes off the students. "Nothing's going on," he said. "And I'm perfectly safe…here." 

_Here?_ "Who are you looking for?" she asked. "Another Senshi?" 

"What?" He did look at her then, startled. "Er, no. Not exactly." 

She frowned at him. "What, then? Why won't you tell me? Dammit, why do you have to be so secretive? You never used to be like this—" 

"Uhh, Hayashi?" said a voice. "Look, I hate to interrupt, but there's something I've got to tell you." 

"Who—" She looked around and saw Dhiti. "What?" she said crossly. 

Dhiti leaned forward and whispered, "I know the reason why he's so secretive." 

Miyo stared at her, wide-eyed. "You do?" 

Dhiti shook her head sadly. "He's a cat, Hayashi. He can't talk. I'm sorry to have to be the one to break this to you, but—" She shrugged. "You had to learn the truth someday." 

Miyo felt something warm against her legs. She looked down, and saw Artemis rubbing himself against them, purring. She closed her eyes for a moment to keep from screaming. 

"Excuse me," she said tightly. "I have to go and bang my head against a wall for a while." 

"Yeah?" said Dhiti, interested. "Let me know if it works." 

"If what works?" said someone else. They looked around to see Kin coming out of the gate. 

"Oh, Hayashi's decided that smacking her head against a brick wall will stop her talking to cats." 

Kin thought about it. "Actually, she could be right." 

"You don't happen to have your camera with you, do you? 'Cause I'd like to record this for posterity." 

"Will you two—please—stop?" said Miyo. 

"Hey, you started it!" 

"Was she really talking to her cat?" 

"She was accusing it of keeping secrets from her." 

"Doesn't surprise me. Those cats…you can never tell what they're up to." 

"Hey, that's right!" Dhiti's eyes lit up. "They could just be _pretending_ to catch mice and eat fish and stuff, when really they're planning to take over the world!" 

"Dhiti-chan, what planet do you come from?" 

"Mm, I'm not sure, but it'd better be a planet without cats." 

"So let me get this straight," put in Miyo. "_You_ think _I'm_ weird?" 

Dhiti patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. "Of course you're weird, Hayashi. But don't let it go to your head. Me, I'm genuinely strange." 

"Oh, so you admit it?" 

"Was there ever any doubt?" 

"The truth is out at last," said a new, accented voice. "Newsflash! Dhiti-chan admits all!" They looked around to see Mark there, hands in pockets, grinning. The other new boy, Liam, was just behind him, hands in his own pockets, also grinning. The two of them looked remarkably alike in that pose. 

Dhiti was the first to recover, of course. "Oh, great," she said in mock-disgust. "The Alaskan Terror and his sidekick strike again." 

Mark winked. "Got to keep you three on your toes." 

"Toes, is it?" put in Liam. "Sure and I thought there was something else you were telling me you'd like to keep them on." 

"And just what might that be?" demanded Dhiti, bristling. 

Laughing, Mark said, "In your case, possibly tranquillisers." 

"Ha! They haven't made the tranquilliser that can keep me down!" 

"Or shut you up," murmured Miyo dryly, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, a little louder: "Better watch out, Mark-kun, you're dealing with high explosives there." 

"Ha!" he declaimed. "I laugh at danger! Danger is my middle name!" He threw a beseeching look over at Liam. "C'mon, back me up here, they've got me outnumbered." 

Liam chortled. "'Danger,' is it? And wasn't I after thinking it was 'stupidity'?" 

"Hey, whose side are you on?" 

"Wouldn't that be telling, now?" 

Sympathetically, Kin said, "You just can't win, can you, Wright-kun?" She shot a quick glance over at Miyo out of the corner of her eye. "No, what you need is someone quieter…more reliable…someone who can cook…" 

"Huh?" said Miyo, suddenly smelling a rat. "Wait a minute—" 

"She can cook?" exclaimed Mark. "Heaven be praised!" He fell to his knees before Miyo and tried to kiss her hand. "Oh most noble goddess of the kitchen—" 

"Will you get up?" 

"Gee, Hayashi," said Dhiti, "he really seems to like kneeling to you, doesn't he?" 

"—Vouchsafe, I beg thee, a sample of thy glorious wares upon thy lowly servant—" 

"What?" 

"I think he means, will you cook him something?" 

Miyo brightened. "Oh! Well…how do you feel about spiced Europan slugs?" 

A little silence fell. 

At last Mark said, "Er, what?" 

"I mean—" Miyo stumbled to a halt, flustered. 

"Slugs?" said Kin, wrinkling her nose. 

Dhiti gave Miyo a suspicious look. "Is this some kind of weird revenge for that 'strange' remark, Hayashi?" 

"Now, wait—" Miyo began. 

"Slugs," said Mark meditatively. "Now I come to think of it…I have to admit, that's one dish I haven't tried lately. Liam, have you—" 

"Mark, my friend…I'm thinking that you're on your own this time." 

"I didn't—" Miyo protested. 

"I mean," went on Dhiti, "we're not talking _real_ slugs here, are we? Are we, Hayashi? Hayashi, you're not answering me—" 

"I just can't wait to hear what the _second_ course is," Mark said dolefully. 

Kin said, "I can." 

"Will you all just _stop it_!" burst out Miyo. She glared around at them, almost too angry to speak. They were supposed to be her friends—well, Dhiti and Kin were—and Mark, she had almost been beginning to think that maybe Mark—but one little slip of the tongue, one more damn _stupid_ mistake, and they were all over her like wolves— 

She reached down, picked up Artemis roughly (ignoring his mew of protest) and, not caring what the others thought, snarled at him, "This is all _your_ fault!" Then she stalked away, the cat in her arms, without looking back.

- - -

The others watched her go, wide-eyed. Mark and Liam made their excuses and left quickly. The mood was entirely broken. 

Dhiti stood for a while, watching Miyo's retreating back. "You know," she said, her face unusually thoughtful, "I hate to say it, but there are times when that girl sincerely worries me." 

"You think she's got some kind of problem?" said Kin. 

"When doesn't she?" Dhiti shook her head. "I'm going to go after her, make sure she's all right. Seeya tomorrow." 

"Hey, wait—" Kin shouted; but Dhiti was gone. Kin snorted. She had no chance of catching up with her; Dhiti was in the school running team. "Well, great," she said. "Now what am _I_ supposed to do?"

- - -

"Slugs," Mark said, for the ninth or tenth time. 

Liam laughed. "Sure and that's quite a girl you've set your sights on, Mark, quite a girl altogether." 

"Will you stop that? You can talk perfectly normally when you want to." 

He laughed again. "I just love to watch their faces when they're trying not to notice." 

"You would." Mark sighed. Three years living in Eireland with the Keenans, and then he and Liam had to win these exchange scholarships. Back when he left Alaskay, he'd never dreamed what he was getting into.

- - -

"A very pretty scene," said Artemis coldly. 

"I know," Miyo said guiltily. She looked like she wanted to run back and apologise, but they both knew how _that_ would look. 

"Not content with making yourself look like an idiot, you insist on calling attention to your mistakes; you call attention to _me_; you insult all your friends…have I missed anything? I won't even mention how much it hurt when you grabbed me like that." 

Miserably, she said, "I'm sorry. I—I just can't win…" 

"Why do you think you have to _win_? This isn't a contest, Miyo! This is your life!" Artemis took a deep breath, then continued in a lower voice. "Look, nobody's out to get you. This isn't like some battle between you and the bad guys, with Serenity waiting to step in to save the day when all is lost. It's up to _you_. I know things are tough for you at the moment, and I know it's partly my fault. But Miyo, right now the only person messing your life up…is you." 

She tried to grin, but failed. "Same as usual, huh? Makoto, the eternal screw-up." 

"You know that isn't true." 

"Isn't it? Artemis, I…just don't know what to do. I thought I was getting it under control, but I can't! There's—" She struggled for words. "There's too much of me! I can't just bury it, I can't make myself forget…and I don't know _how_ to pretend any more! And it seems like when I make the slightest mistake, everyone's jumping all over me, and…" She shook her head wildly. "How do I _cope_?" 

"What you need," Artemis said slowly, "is someone to talk to. A friend." The next part hurt to say, but he said it anyway. "Someone you trust." 

"I trust you," she said. 

"Do you?" 

She looked away, shame-faced. The answer was a long time in coming, but at last she said, "No." 

He'd expected it, but the answer still stung. She had cause to distrust him, he knew. Some reasons that she probably wasn't even aware of, not consciously. There was the accident in restoring her memories, of course. And the way he was keeping secrets from her. That wasn't entirely of his choice; but he couldn't hide the fact that he wasn't telling her everything, and it had to hurt. And then—deepest of all, something that she'd probably never admit, not even to herself—there was the undeniable fact that seven hundred years ago, she had died, and he had not. Again. And that, he thought morosely, might just be unforgivable. 

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Miyo. I'm trying to do something about it, I promise. But for now, I'm afraid we're simply stuck with each other." 

"It's not like that!" she said hastily. 

"I know. Just…try to accept that it won't always be this bad, all right?" He squirmed around in her arms, leaped up onto her shoulder, and curled up there. Hmm. She was a bit bonier than Minako had been. "For now," he said in her ear, "try to have a little patience. They are your friends, you know. If it seems like they're overreacting when you make a mistake, it's because they care about you." 

He could feel her smile. "Yeah," she said. "Isn't that amazing? I never really had many friends before, except the other Senshi. But Dhiti-chan and Kin-chan are…well, like you said. Friends. It's…nice." 

"And Mark and Liam," he added. 

"No!" she said, a little too quickly. "I mean—they're new, they only got here about three weeks ago. They don't know me, they're just interested in—well, you know." 

"Maybe," said Artemis obligingly. Privately, he doubted it; he thought Mark had a bit more depth than that, though it was harder to read Liam. But he'd learned a long time ago to let humans form relationships at their own pace. 

Miyo smiled again. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "as a matter of fact, Mark-kun almost reminds me of—" 

"Oh, please. Not your sempai again." 

"What?" She laughed. "No. Well…maybe a little. No, actually I was thinking that if he wasn't a Claver, he'd look rather like Mamoru." 

"He _what_?" 

"Hadn't you noticed? Maybe it's just my imagination." 

Artemis certainly hoped so. Wouldn't _that_ just be perfect? Trying to tell him what had happened to his wife…no. No, let him and Serenity rest together. Please. It was better that way. 

But he _had_ felt something, back there. Had it been Mark, though? He wasn't sure. He would have to check it out, he thought glumly. 

Looking for a way to change the subject, he glanced around. "Hey, what's that?" he said. A cloud of smoke was rising from a building not too far away. 

"Looks like a fire. Why, you want to go and watch?" 

"I was thinking that there might be people there who could use help." 

"Oh. Good point." Miyo started to head toward the building, moving a lot faster now. As she ran, she said, "Just don't think I've forgotten that you still haven't told me what you were watching all those other girls for." 

* * *

  

Beth didn't notice the smoke at all, not to start with. It was the sirens that drew her attention first. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the fire trucks, and automatically looked around for smoke. Then she had to wonder how she'd missed it. Had she been walking around with her eyes closed? 

It was a large department store, a few blocks away. She couldn't see any flames, but the smoke was pouring out of it. She was tempted to go and watch; but that would be…sort of ghoulish. And the police could be pretty hard on sightseers, and she really didn't want to see any more police… 

_Silly,_ she told herself. After all, she wasn't Sailor Venus now. She didn't have anything to be afraid of. 

Then she looked back at the fire trucks. They were stuck in traffic. Some idiot had tried to pull over to let them past, and a car in the next lane had run into him, and now there was traffic piled up all over the road on both sides, with the fire trucks helpless in the middle. 

She shook her head. It was going to be some time before they were able to move again. That was bad. People might be trapped by the fire, hurt, maybe even killed with nobody to help. 

_With nobody to help—_

She looked at the department store again, with a sinking feeling. 

Maybe it would be all right. Maybe she wouldn't have to do it. Maybe the building had been evacuated. Maybe nobody was in danger. Maybe. 

She started toward the building at a dead run. 

She had trouble getting close. There was quite a crowd gathered in the street, clustered around the store. A lot of them were rubberneckers, but there were a fair number in the store livery. They must be people who'd made it out. So they were safe. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

Then she saw somebody pointing, and looked up. There were faces in a window, four floors up. The fire escapes were in flames. The people inside were trapped. 

She dithered helplessly. To change, to go out there…with hundreds of people watching…the thought was unbearable. The fire trucks would arrive in time, surely. Or maybe the police could land an Opal on the roof to take them off to safety— 

As if in answer to her thought, she saw the lights of an Opal moving in toward the building. But something seemed to go wrong as it got close. It seemed to lurch in the sky, rocking crazily. From the updraft, perhaps? Or maybe the heat was knocking out the superconductors? She tried to remember what she knew about Opals. It wasn't much. 

The Opal made another pass at the roof. This time it couldn't even get close. 

And so there was nothing else for it. 

She looked around for somewhere secluded. A comm booth? None in sight. In the end, she simply ducked around a corner into a quiet side-street and hoped that nobody would some into sight at the wrong moment. She pulled out her henshin wand, stared at it for a moment. Her hand was shaking. The words wouldn't come. She was afraid. 

_Maybe you should try hitting back._

It wasn't much to take comfort from, but it would have to do. She closed her eyes for a moment, then raised the stick high— 

"VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!" 

A bolt from the blue.

- - -

She ran up the side of a building, springing from ledge to ledge in the approved Bendis manner. A few moments ago she'd been upset, even afraid, but for the life of her she couldn't remember why. She was Sailor Venus, and what did she have to be afraid of? 

She stopped on the roof to take a better look at the burning store. Hmm. Tricky. The fire was on the lower floors; it would be difficult to enter. Perhaps if she got to the roof, and worked her way down? She looked from the store to where she was standing and back again, trying to judge angles. She wasn't sure she could jump across that far. 

She heard noises from below, and glanced down. Some of the people had seen her. As she watched, more and more of them were looking her way. Some of them were waving, and shouting. Well. It was nice to be appreciated. She supposed she ought to give them a good show. 

She looked back to the burning building, took careful aim, and fired her Love-Me Chain at it. Even as it was arcing out to the top of the store, she jumped off the roof she was standing on. She remembered practising this with Bendis: swinging from building to building. Who'd have thought it'd come in so handy? Of course, she'd never really got it to work properly— 

The chain wrapped itself around something, and with a sudden jolt she found herself swooping across in a long, shallow curve. She let out a wild yell of exhilaration. Then twisted herself at the last moment, to hit feet-first— 

Her heels hit the window she'd been aiming for. She burst through it in a shower of glass. And into an inferno. 

The flames seemed to roar higher as she entered. Oops, wait a minute, that was her fault, wasn't it? Letting more oxygen in, or something? Oh, well. No time to worry about it now. 

She took a quick glance around. The air was hazy with heat. It was hard to breathe. She couldn't see very far, but it looked like there was a clear path to her right. She moved forward, looking for a staircase up to the next floor. 

It was like moving through another world. Through hell. Everything was burning, everything except her. The light was all shades of red, orange and yellow, with brief flickers here and there of blue and green and even violet. There was a constant roar of sound: the thunder of the flames, the groaning and creaking of the building, the sound of objects falling. Once she heard a whole series of explosions in a row, as half the bottles in the perfumes counter detonated. The heat on her face, arms and legs was enormous. When she inhaled, it was like breathing in solid flame. The pain wasn't too bad yet, but it was getting worse. She moved as quickly as possible, dodging around blazing piles of wreckage. It occurred to her that her fuku was probably protecting her from the heat somehow, that without it she would be blazing herself. For some reason the thought made her laugh. 

Perfume counter, up in smoke. Cosmetics, a mass of multi-coloured flame. Fumes, thick and sharp, catching at her throat. She stopped to cough, feeling giddy. Coughing hurt, but for a long time she couldn't stop. Lingerie section. Furnace-hot. As she passed through the racks, there was a sudden squeal as something gave way, and she had to leap through a ball of flame to avoid being pinned down by the falling shelves. Her eyes were dry. It hurt to blink. She couldn't swallow. She was dizzy. 

Finally she saw the staircase. Absurdly, the emergency light in the well was still working. As she watched, it flashed once, then burst, spraying her with tiny stinging particles. Broken glass? Or was it molten glass? She wondered why her hair wasn't catching fire. She stood, staring owlishly up at the remains of the light. Then she wondered why she wasn't moving any more. In one last burst of rationality she understood that she was close to passing out. Somehow she made herself start up the stairs. 

The heat seemed to increase as she climbed. Worse, the smoke thickened as she went; the stairwell was acting as a chimney. She took a deep breath—a mistake, and her chest screamed at her, but she didn't dare start coughing again—and tried to run. It didn't work very well. The rubber nosings were on fire, melting as they burned, and sticking to her shoes. She staggered, almost falling, but managed to keep going. Onto the landing, turn, and up again. Smoke and flame were everywhere. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. How much further could these stairs go? Then suddenly she ran out of stairs. There was a door in front of her: a heavy metal smoke-stop door. That was good, wasn't it? It might be cooler on the other side. She pushed it. There was a sizzling sound, and she screamed at the pain in her hands, even through her gloves— 

And then she was through, and the door swung shut behind her, and it was oh blessedly cool, and she could breathe again. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, gasping and coughing, retching at the awful taste in her mouth. When she spat, it was black. 

At last she could stand up again. She looked around. The air was dim and hazy with smoke, but still relatively clear: clear enough to see the knot of people at the far end of the room, staring at her. 

She couldn't resist it. "What's the matter?" she said. "You never saw a Senshi before?" 

And then they were clustering around her, exclaiming in wonder and amazement. It was sheer bliss. She had to say "Yes, I'm Sailor Venus" and "Yes, I'm real" half a dozen times at least. Bendis was right. That policeman _had_ been a bonehead. 

At last she had to break off the questions. "All right," she said crisply. "What's the fastest way to the roof from here?" 

Silently, one of the men pointed to the door she'd come in through. All right. Scratch that idea. 

She went to the window, looked down. Hmm, quite a long way to jump. And if she was trying to carry someone else at the same time—no, perhaps not. Maybe if she anchored her Love-Me Chain to something, and had the others climb down it? But it would mean maintaining the chain for an awfully long time, and she wasn't sure she could manage it. Besides, she had an uneasy feeling that it might not be safe for them to touch the chain, not with their bare hands. 

So there was nothing else for it. There were two children among the group, both of them thankfully rather small. If she tried starting with them—it would have to be two at a time, she wasn't going to have time to make many trips— 

She clenched her fist, wincing at the pain in her burnt hands, and smashed the glass in the largest window, glad once more of her gloves. There was an impressed murmur from the others, and she guessed that they'd already tried to break a window. Safety glass, tcha. 

"All right," she said, as calmly as she could. She beckoned to the children and they stepped forward nervously. "Now," she told them softly, "we're going to take a ride. Okay?" She held out her arms to them—and smiled as, with the instant trust of the small child, they came to her without hesitation. 

She lifted them both, one in each arm, and jumped up and down a few times, trying to gauge how their weight would affect her balance. At last she thought she had it. Maybe, maybe, this might work. Please. 

She turned to the other four, all adults. They looked worried. One of them, probably the children's mother, looked more than worried. Venus winked at her. "Trust me—I've done this a million times before," she lied. 

She went to the window and looked out again. It was still a long way down. _I can do this. I'm a hero. Please._

She held the children close. "I want you to hold onto me tight," she ordered. "When we land, there's going to be a big bump, and we'll roll over and over, but that's all. All right?" They looked scared, but they nodded. Of course. She was a Senshi, and they knew they could trust her. It was the older ones who couldn't. 

She took a deep breath. _All or nothing,_ she told herself. She wasn't sure what she meant by that, but it sounded good. Then she jumped. 

The fall seemed to last forever. She _was_ off-balance; she could feel herself starting to go into a spin. Somehow, maybe by sheer willpower, she kept herself straight. There was a rush of air—a sudden blast of heat as she passed through a cloud of smoke that hadn't been there a moment before— 

Then she hit. The impact wasn't as bad as she'd feared, but it was still pretty bad. There was a blaze of pain in her left knee and she cried out. She rolled, sprawling, feeling as much as hearing the children screaming in fright. Then she was motionless, flat on her back, panting and groaning. 

There was a rush of footsteps. When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by people. She heard the words "Sailor Venus" repeated a hundred times. Well, that was nice, she supposed. She managed to sit up, looking at the two children. They were scared, crying, but they didn't seem hurt. Oh, thank goodness. 

She stood up. Somebody took the children away from her. Somebody else stuck a microphone under her nose and started asking questions. She knocked it away, irritated, and asked, "Have the fire trucks got here yet?" Half a dozen people said no. "Right," she said, and started back for the store entrance. 

"Are you crazy?" demanded the newsie with the microphone. "It's an inferno in there!" He didn't look concerned for her, though. He looked excited about the story he was getting. 

She gave him a cold look. "There are four more people up there," she said flatly. Then, ignoring him, she went back inside. 

It was worse this time. She had expected that, but she hadn't dreamed just how much worse it could be. It wasn't just the pain in her leg, or the renewed agony as the heat hit her hands. It was hotter, far hotter, and there didn't seem to be any air to breathe at all. She lurched forward anyway. What other choice was there? 

After a few seconds she began to realise that there was another choice after all. She could die in here. The further she went, the more likely that seemed. If she stopped, she knew, it would be the end. She was running through almost solid flame. Her chest heaved, struggling for air that wasn't there. She ran anyway. Four more people. Four more people, and nobody else was going to say that Sailor Venus was a failure. _Maybe you should try hitting back._ Yes, damn you, just watch me hit back. 

She reached the stairwell. She'd come in on the ground floor this time, so she had to go up further. Was it three floors, or four? And the stairs were blazing, she had to watch where she stepped or she'd fall straight through. And she had an uneasy feeling that there was more than one stairwell in the store, and this was the wrong one. 

She ran out of stairs on the third floor. At least one more floor to go. She looked around desperately for the other stairwell. There was a patch of darkness off to her right, and she made for it. No, no, it was a dead-end, damn damn damn, she turned back to head the other way— 

With a long, tearing scream, the roof fell in. 

She stared at the mass of blazing wreckage in front of her, horrified. She was trapped. There was no way out. She looked up wildly, hoping to see an opening that she might be able to jump through. All she saw was more wreckage. 

She stepped forward, grabbed a beam, and tried to pull it out of the way. The pain in her hands was much worse this time. She could not bear it; she dropped the beam with a scream that was swallowed up in the roar of the fire. She had moved it perhaps five centimetres. 

She stared at the pile of blazing rubble in despair. So this was it. This was the end. She backed away helplessly, shaking her head, unable to believe it— 

Then she heard a voice. A voice, here? Impossible, it had to be. But it sounded like somebody shouting—and then she heard the words, very clearly— 

"SUPREME THUNDER!" 

And the barrier burst open. 

There was another figure there. Tall, slender—and unmistakably, a Senshi. Another Senshi. Another Senshi, she couldn't believe it, she wasn't alone, she was saved— 

"Come on!" the other shouted, barely audible. Venus nodded quickly, and dove head-first through the hole in the wreckage. She burned her hands a third time on the floor as she hit, but this time she hardly noticed. She was alive, and it was distinctly possible that she was going to stay that way. She could do anything, knowing that. 

As they ran, she began to work out where she was. In the short time since she'd first come through the window, the floor had changed almost beyond recognition; but now she recognised the pile of fallen shelving that had almost killed her before, and that meant the stairwell they needed was…"This way!" she shouted, not knowing if the other Senshi could hear her; but when she turned slightly, the other followed. They almost flew up the stairs. Venus was alive, alive, borne by a wild exultation that overrode the pain, overrode any other consideration. She was alive, and she was not going to fail after all. She hit the door at the top of the stairs with her shoulder, bursting it open, and rolled through. The other Senshi followed her before it could slam shut, and the two of them landed on the floor. 

Made it. 

And not a minute too soon, she saw as she stood up again. (Strange, how her legs felt so rubbery. But worry about that later.) This room, too, was ablaze now. The four who were left were clustered around the broken window. They looked around quickly as Venus and the other Senshi came in. 

The other Senshi! Venus looked at her quickly. Odd, but she seemed familiar. Like a face out of a history book, but that couldn't be right. But the uniform was recognisable enough. "Sailor…Jupiter?" 

Jupiter winked. "Talk later," she said. She gestured at the window. "I heard someone down there say you'd gotten two people out already. How did you get them down?" 

"I jumped," Venus admitted. 

Jupiter's eyes widened. "From this high? Holding two children?" She shook her head. "Okay. If you can do it, I certainly can." Venus blinked; but Jupiter raised her voice to the others before she could say anything. "All right," Jupiter called, "we're going to get the rest of you down now." To Venus she muttered, "It'll have to be all of them now; we'd never make it up here again." 

Venus nodded, still a little surprised at the condescending note that had been in Jupiter's voice. Well, she could worry about that later too. For now, she had other things to worry about—like how she was going to manage another jump when her knee felt like it was going to explode. But that was all right; she was Sailor Venus and she'd just think of something and it would work. Somehow. 

At the window, Jupiter had already divided the adults into pairs of roughly the same size and was telling two men to hold on to her tightly. "Hey, watch it with the hands," she snapped at one of them, and he shifted his grip hurriedly. Then, as Venus watched, she stepped up onto the sill and dropped out of sight. 

Venus poked her head out just in time to see Jupiter hit the ground and roll. She did it better than Venus had, but she was limping when she stood up again, and one of the men was clutching his shoulder. It looked like the extra size was more of a problem than the weight. At least she'd taken the bigger ones. And her height must have helped. 

_My turn now._

"All right," Venus said to the last two. "Let's get out of here, huh?" They nodded quickly. 

A woman and a fairly slight man. How was she supposed to handle this? She tried lifting the woman in her arms and having the man hold on to her back, but when she tried to move it felt incredibly clumsy, and her knee flared again. This wasn't going to work, she realised. She could barely move, and if she jumped they were going to get smashed to bits. And the room was full of smoke, and it was hard to breathe, and her head was swimming again from all the effort of the last few minutes, and— 

—And she glanced out the window and saw her salvation. The Opal she'd seen before was gliding past, still trying to get close enough to the building to help. 

She stepped up onto the sill, gasping at the pain as she flexed her knee, and told the woman, "Hold on tight. I'm going to need my arms free." The woman obeyed, looking terrified. To both of them she said, "We're going now. There'll be a big jerk. Ready?" She felt the man's arms tighten convulsively around her neck. Then there was no more time for thought. 

She jumped outward as hard as she could. She felt herself begin to spin. But at the same time, she was shouting the words, and throwing out her hands, trying to keep her aim— 

The Love-Me Chain arced out, and wrapped itself around the Opal in mid-air. 

The jerk was enormous, the flare of agony in her hands even more so. Somehow she hung on. And then— 

Suddenly they weren't falling any more, they were swinging. The biggest, longest, most glorious damn swing ever—no, not a swing, it was a _swoop_, they were trailing behind the Opal as it glided down the street, and oh, what a _rush_! She yelled in delight, and heard the man and woman hanging onto her yell too. 

The Opal veered around a corner, and Venus and her passengers swung wide. But it was all right, they were low enough now, and as they reached the very top of their arc, hanging motionless for an instant, Venus released the chain, and dropped no more than three metres to the ground. 

The impact hurt—she gasped, trying not to cry out as her knee seemed to explode—but it was nothing compared to the knowledge that she was down. On the street, out of danger, safe. And she'd saved the last two people. That made up for the pain. That made up for everything.

- - -

When she saw Sailor Jupiter get to her feet again, Dhiti gave a sigh of relief. She leaned back against the alley wall behind her, mopping at her forehead. The crate that she was standing on, to see over the heads of the people that filled the street, wobbled and almost toppled over. She had to clutch at the wall for support. 

Unbelievable. Just absolutely unbelievable. Hayashi—_her_ Hayashi, her friend Hayashi from school—was Sailor Jupiter. She'd seen it with her own eyes, and she still wasn't sure she believed it. 

(Although it did make a certain kind of sense. Hayashi had been acting pretty weird lately. Maybe becoming a Senshi did something to your brain. But how did that tie in with the slug fixation?) 

Dhiti shook her head, remembering. She'd been worried about Hayashi after that blow-up by the school gates, and had followed her. Unfortunately, Hayashi was a pretty fast runner, and it took her a while to catch up. She wondered why they were headed toward a burning building; but then she saw Hayashi duck into an alley, and followed just in time to see— 

—Well, that thing she did. With the thunder and lightning and all the swirling around and changing costume and stuff. Kind of gaudy, really. But it did look like fun. 

And then Hayashi went and ran into a blazing building, and came out again through one of the top-floor windows carrying two men. Geez, talk about your double life. She was going to have to have a _serious_ talk to that girl…a person could get hurt doing that sort of thing— 

Not that Dhiti was worried about her. A Senshi, getting hurt in a fall? Ridiculous. Dhiti, worried? Even more so. 

(But she'd gotten up again after jumping out of the building. She was all right. Thank goodness.) 

Dhiti took another look around. The fire trucks were arriving, finally, and Sailor Venus had made some preposterous show-offish escape with two more people—it had looked kind of cool, actually, but you had to be loyal to your friends. Dhiti decided the action was probably over for the evening. 

She jumped down off her crate. Time to get out of here before something went wrong and Hayashi spotted her. It wouldn't do for Hayashi to get the wrong idea, that she was getting soft or something. Not Dhiti. She was as slippery as— 

Behind her, somebody cleared his throat. She froze. A voice said, "Just before you go, I wonder if I might have a word…?"

- - -

Jupiter's first impulse was to get away. 

The crowd swarmed around her, shouting, cheering, applauding, and she didn't like it one bit. The impact when she landed had been tremendous; her arms and shoulders ached; she was fairly sure that she'd sprained her ankle; Venus was still up there with two more people; and all these people could do was cheer? They weren't even leaving a clear space for Venus to land in! 

She started shouting orders, trying to get them to move away from under the window. A few people obeyed, but not many. They were too excited. Crowds always seemed to get this way, she remembered. 

—Venus. How was Venus going to handle it? She'd been limping, Jupiter suddenly remembered, and having jumped down herself she could understand why. She wouldn't like to make a second jump herself; and for a raw novice… 

(That still hurt. A novice. It should have been Minako up there.) 

…This could be nasty, she realised. If Venus landed wrong, it could be a lot worse than nasty. She looked up at the window, trying to see if the girl was ready yet. She was just in time to see Venus jump. 

It was all wrong, she realised instantly. Venus was spinning, tumbling in mid-air, clearly out of control; the two people hanging on to her were close to flying off. Around Jupiter, people started to cry out in horror, and Jupiter felt like doing it herself. 

Then she saw the chain fly out. In a sudden flash of insight she realised what Venus was trying to do. _That clever little—oh, Kami-sama, if she misses—_

But the chain caught cleanly, and Sailor Venus soared. Jupiter sighed in relief. So many things could have gone wrong—the chain could have missed, Venus could have lost her grip, the people she was carrying could have been torn away from her— 

Venus dropped to the ground not too far away. She fell oddly, with an almost catlike grace, but the effect was spoiled when she stumbled on landing, collapsing to the ground. Even above the shouting, Jupiter could hear her cry out in pain. 

She made her way toward her, pushing rudely through the crowd. When she reached her, Venus was trying to sit up. She was clutching her knee. Her face was pale. 

"Are you all right?" Jupiter said, almost having to shout. There was another noise in the background: sirens. The fire trucks were arriving at last. "Can you walk?" 

Venus gave her a twisted grin. "Are you kidding? Give me a couple of minutes and I'll _fly_!" 

_Sure you will,_ Jupiter thought. She grinned back. "Let me see that knee." She wasn't Ami, but she did know something about first aid. You learned a lot in a thousand years. 

Venus closed her eyes for a moment, grimacing as Jupiter gently probed her knee; but then she was grinning again. "Did you see that? What a ride! Did you see? I've _got_ to try that again sometime—" 

"Yeah, well, I don't think you're going to be trying much for a while." 

"Hey, don't worry." Venus glanced down at her arm; following her gaze, Jupiter saw a faint white mark there. Some kind of scar. "We seem to heal fast," Venus said blithely. "I'll be fine." 

Jupiter sighed. "I know how fast we heal. But this is a pretty bad sprain, and you're going to have to stay off it for a—look, this is a lousy place to be talking, do you feel up to moving somewhere else? I'll carry you—" 

"Can I help?" 

They looked up at the interruption. Jupiter suddenly realised, to her dismay, how much the situation had changed around them. The road was filled with fire trucks, and firemen were rushing about, getting their equipment set up. The crowds had finally been forced away, and were lining the pavements some distance off. The Opal that Venus had lassoed had landed, and most of the policemen were busy keeping the spectators under control. Two of them, though, were keeping a close eye on her and Venus. And there were lights in the sky: another Opal coming in to land. It was definitely past time to leave. 

Her eyes returned to the speaker. He was a young man, with short blond hair and dark glasses. He was grinning cheerfully. _Well, at least he looks friendly,_ Jupiter thought. Maybe he was a doctor? 

"Sailor Venus?" he inquired. Venus looked up at him, startled. His grin widened. "Found you at last," he said jovially. He reached into his jacket and started to pull something out. 

Jupiter sighed. _Great, another autograph hound._ Well, maybe the police would get rid of him; 'P' Division had to be good for something. 

Then she saw the glint of metal. 

The young man pointed his gun at Venus, smiled again and said, "Good-bye." His finger started to tighten on the trigger— 

Jupiter hit him at waist-height, flinging him back to the ground. The gun went off with a flat, dull bark. Someone in the crowd screamed. With a shout, Jupiter caught the man's wrist, slammed it down against the road, hard. His fingers opened, and the gun went spinning away. He struggled for a moment. Then more hands closed on him. The police, finally. 

He lay there, limp for a moment, held immobile by the two officers. Jupiter got up and took a step back, watching him intently. Behind her, she heard Venus say, "Huh?" 

The man began to laugh. 

At the same time, he _changed_. His face seemed to ripple and blur. His body began to twist, reform. He flicked his arms, almost casually, and the policemen went flying. They hit the road some distance away, and did not move again. The spectators screamed and started to run. 

The man got to his feet slowly. Only he wasn't a man any more. He was—what? Something vile: huge, swollen, misshapen. Three metres tall, at least. His arms and legs were monstrous, club-like things. His face was worse: distorted, like a warped parody of a human face. In the centre of his forehead was something that looked like a third eye. All three eyes glowed blue. 

His clothes had split and torn as he changed, and the flesh that was revealed had a strange, translucent cast. It glinted in the light from the burning building. It almost seemed…faceted. 

The creature was still laughing. He—it—was looking at her. No, she realised, not at her. At Venus. "Good-bye," it said again in a voice that was thick and guttural. Then it started forward. It moved with a lurching gait, surprisingly fast, and Jupiter had the impression that nothing weighing less than an elephant would stop it. Or a Senshi. Perhaps. 

She jumped in between it and Venus without hesitation, stumbling on her bad ankle. "Stop right there," she shouted. 

It paid no attention. It didn't even seem to notice her. It kept right on coming. Like a juggernaut. Unstoppable. 

On the other hand, thunderbolts had a lot of stopping power. 

Jupiter said the words. "SUPREME THUNDER!" And the heavens opened. Energy arced downward, played for a moment about the rod in her tiara. Then she cast it outward. It caught the thing right in the middle of its chest. 

The creature seemed to light up like a flare. As if it were a giant light bulb, and Jupiter had just supplied the current. 

Great. Instead of fighting a giant crystalline monster, now she was fighting a giant glowing crystalline monster. The blue glow from its three eyes had become cyan. Well, at least it wouldn't be able to escape in the dark. 

Her Supreme Thunder didn't seem to have hurt it at all. 

It was still coming. Still laughing that irritating laugh. And it was still paying no attention to her, focused solely on Venus. 

—Who was standing, she realised. Her face was pale, and she was keeping all her weight on her good leg, but she was upright, and she looked like she was going to try and make a fight of it. 

_Oh, no._

Jupiter ran back and yanked her away, out of the thing's path. Fast it might be, but something that big had a lot of momentum, and it took it a while to stop and turn around. "You've got to get out of here," she whispered to Venus. "You're in no condition to fight, and it's after you in particular. If you leave, it might confuse the thing, make it easier to take out." Venus looked like she was going to argue, and Jupiter added, "Trust me. I've got a lot more experience at this than you." 

"More experience?" Venus gave her an incredulous look. "Excuse me, who was here first?" 

"We don't have time to argue!" Best to just tell her outright. "Look, I'm Kino Makoto, and I've been doing this for centuries. You're just a beginner, and the best thing for you to do is to get out of my way and let me handle this. All right?" 

She saw the disbelief, and then the resentment, in Venus' eyes. Well, it couldn't be helped. Venus was young, and inexperienced, and above all, injured. Once she'd dealt with this monster, she'd find a way to soothe the girl's feelings. 

For now…the creature was coming back. Still glowing, still laughing, still as big as ever. It was really starting to creep her out. Well, if her Supreme Thunder didn't seem to have bothered it, it was time to trot out the big guns. She took up a pose and launched her attack. "OAK EVOLUTION!" 

There was a brief flicker. Then, nothing. 

_What?_

Jupiter suddenly felt dizzy, and fell over. 

She tried to get up, and failed. She felt…drained. What had happened? Why wouldn't her attack work? What was wrong with her? She groaned, trying to stand up again. Had the monster somehow drained all her strength? 

She felt someone dragging her out of the thing's path. Venus, returning her earlier favour, she realised. "That was real impressive, obaasan," Venus panted. "Got any more good tricks like that? Or can Chibi-Venus have a go after all?" 

"You idiot!" Jupiter hissed, trying to move once more. She managed to make it to her knees this time. 

Venus paid no attention. "VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!" she shouted. The creature was only a few metres away, slowing down to turn again, and the chain wrapped itself neatly around it. Sparks flew where the chain touched the thing's 'skin.' 

Venus didn't wait to see if they would have an effect; she braced herself and yanked. It looked preposterous: a young girl pulling at a thing that must have weighed thirty or forty times more than she did. But when the girl was a Senshi, the odds shifted. Impossibly, the monster was dragged off balance. 

It hit the road with a crash that Jupiter felt in her bones. She half- expected it to shatter, but it just started to get up again. 

"Now!" Jupiter shouted. "Hit it now!" 

"Hit it with what?" Venus shouted back. 

"Your Crescent Beam! Hurry!" 

"But I can't _do_ the—" Whatever Venus was trying to say was cut off suddenly. She had left the monster tangled in her Love-Me Chain; now, ignoring the sparks that flew at its touch, it grabbed the chain and pulled. Venus was jerked off her feet with a cry of surprise and pain. She flew through the air and slammed, horribly hard, into a brick wall. 

The monster finally regained its feet and started toward where she lay. She was moving feebly, trying to get back up, but it was clear that she was not going to make it. Behind them both, Jupiter made a supreme effort and managed to stand up. Knowing it was useless, she headed for Venus too; but her fastest run was more of a totter and she realised that she was not going to make it either. 

Someone else made it for them both. 

"ICE SPEAR!" 

It came as a blast of frigid air, a hail of tiny, stinging, blinding ice particles, like a snowstorm driven before a hurricane…and in the centre of it, the spear. A spear of ice, long, pointed, wickedly sharp. It caught the monster in the back, and shattered with an ear-splitting _crack_ and a burst of ice splinters. The monster went down again. There was a gaping hole in its back where the spear had struck. 

The newcomer bounded into sight. A Senshi. A little taller than Venus, with black hair falling just below her shoulders; her skin was very dark. Her skirt and her boots were blue, as was the bow on her chest. Jupiter blinked. She was— 

"I am the spectacular Sailor Mercury," the Senshi announced. "And hey, is my timing good, or what?" 

Jupiter said, "Dhiti-chan, that had better not be you." 

"Hark. I hear a voice. And who might you be, O tall Senshi who I've definitely never seen before?" 

"Oh, no." _What have I done to deserve this?_ But there was no time to question her further—not now. Jupiter gave her a sharp look. "We can talk later. I have to check if Venus—" 

"Too late," said a rather indistinct voice. Jupiter looked around quickly. Venus was sitting up. She looked battered and still half- stunned; her nose and lip were bleeding, and one of her eyes was bloodshot. But she was conscious. 

Jupiter limped over to her. "How are you?" she asked. 

"Umm, I've had better days," Venus admitted. Then she gave a bloody grin. "But we won, right? And Sailor Mercury showed up, too! That only leaves two to go—" 

"Don't worry about that now. Can you stand? I think maybe we ought to get a doctor to look at you." 

"I'll be fine." Venus winked, and managed to lever herself to her feet. "Can't keep a Senshi down, right, obaasan?" 

Jupiter winced. "Look, I'm sorry I said that, all right? But—" 

"Uhh, I hate to say this," Mercury said from behind them, "but I think that thing is starting to—LOOK OUT!" 

Jupiter rolled to one side without even thinking, just fast enough to avoid the massive fist that swung through the spot where she'd been standing. At the same time, she saw Venus leap upward, flipping over in mid-air and landing a few metres away with that same strange, catlike grace she'd seen before. Where on earth had she learned that? 

Jupiter came to her feet once more, relieved at how much easier it was to get up this time, and ducked back as the monster swung again. It was still trying to get at Venus, and Jupiter had to move quickly to keep blocking its way. The eerie glow from her Supreme Thunder had mostly faded; but the strange blue light from all three eyes remained, and the hole in the thing's back didn't seem to bother it at all. 

"Try that attack of yours again!" she shouted to Mercury. Then she had to duck another swing. Was it moving faster than before, or was she just getting tired? It felt as if it had been turbocharged. 

Another Ice Spear struck the monster in the arm, gouging out another hole. But the thing didn't fall this time; it kept right on coming. It didn't pay any attention to Mercury, either. Why? 

"Venus! Try your Crescent Beam!" she shouted. 

"I can't!" Venus shouted back. "It doesn't work! The Love-Me Chain is the only one I can do!" 

_What?_ That didn't make any sense. Could it be related to the reason why her Oak Evolution hadn't worked? But she didn't have time to think about it; the monster was coming for her again… 

It was becoming a game of tag. Mercury kept throwing Ice Spears; but they were draining her, and it was clear that she couldn't keep it up much longer. Jupiter couldn't _dodge_ for much longer, for that matter. The creature's misses were getting nearer. One slip, and it would be all over. 

Then the slip came, literally. Her foot skidded on a sliver of ice left over from one of Mercury's attacks. She went sprawling, flat on her face. When she looked up, she saw the arm beginning to descend, straight for her, and knew it was the end— 

—Mercury shouted, "Now!" And Venus' Love-Me Chain wrapped around the monster and snapped taut, holding it immobile for an instant— 

—And, "Now!" Mercury yelled again. "Aim for the third eye!" 

—And Jupiter cast the lightning forth, acting on a blind, instinctive trust in the certainty in Mercury's voice— 

—And the thunderbolt struck home, and the third eye blazed for an instant, brighter than the sun— 

There was a massive explosion. A blinding light. A cloud of thick, vile-smelling smoke. And when she could see again, the monster was gone. 

She stared at the empty spot where it had stood, and said clearly, "Thank goodness." Then she fainted.

- - -

She came to a couple of minutes later, and realised she was being carried. "Where are we?" she asked muzzily. 

"Almost at your house," Mercury told her. "Do they know you're Sailor Jupiter?" 

"No…" 

"Right. We'd better stop here, then." 

She was set on her feet. Her ankle hurt, but wasn't as bad as she'd feared. One of the advantages of being a Senshi, healing so fast. "What happened?" she asked. 

"Oh, well…everyone started running around and shouting after you zapped that thing. What was it, anyway?" Jupiter shrugged. "Oh, a random wandering monster. Great. Happens to you guys all the time, I suppose. Well, Venus got kind of upset when the newsies started pestering her, and she took off, and I thought I'd better get you out as well. Who is Venus, anyway?" 

"I don't know." Jupiter rubbed her forehead. She still felt a little dizzy. "Artemis won't tell me. Oh, that's right, you haven't met Artemis yet—" 

"Want to bet?" said Artemis. 

Jupiter looked around, startled. Artemis was following them, a little way behind. "I should have known," she mumbled. 

"You should probably change back," Artemis told her. "It wouldn't be a good idea for anyone to catch you two running around here in costume. Too many awkward questions." 

"Right." Jupiter shifted back. Mercury looked confused, and Miyo told her, "Just think about becoming yourself again. Picture it in your mind." Mercury nodded, and closed her eyes, concentrating. After a few seconds she shimmered, and became Sharma Dhiti. 

Miyo shook her head in wonder. "Dhiti-chan, how on earth did _you_ get mixed up in all this?" 

"Are you kidding? I was _born_ to get mixed up in all this!" 

"In more ways than one," said Artemis dryly. 

"Did somebody say something? No? Must be my imagination. Oh, well—I sort of followed you after you took off this afternoon. Y'know, you've been acting kinda weird lately, Hayashi. I was—" 

Miyo rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me _you_ were concerned?" 

"Hey, I wouldn't want to lose my best straight man! Anyway, I followed you, and saw you change in the alley. Nice skin show, by the way." Miyo tried to hit her, and she dodged. "Well, I watched the fire thing. Then this flea-bag came and told me I was one of you two too. True?" 

"Dhiti-chan, one of the only tolerable things about you is that you don't make puns." 

"Why, thank you. You know I value your opunion." 

Artemis cleared his throat. "Maybe I should explain. I thought I felt something at the gate this afternoon, but I'd almost decided it was my imagination. Then, when you went in to rescue those people, I felt it again. I poked around, and found Dhiti-san watching you." 

Dhiti snickered. "So he strolls up to me and says I've got to help you. And I say, hey, she's doing pretty well playing toreador with that thing all on her own. And he says—" 

"As I recall, what you _actually_ said was—" 

"Hey, quiet there! It's rude to interrupt a punch-line!" 

Miyo laughed and said, "All right, I get the idea." She shot Artemis a glance and added, "I thought you said you _weren't_ looking for Senshi this afternoon?" 

"I wasn't. But it's not my fault if one just stumbles along, is it?" 

"'Stumbles?'" said Dhiti. "I like _that_. I'm not the one who was doing all the stumbling tonight, you might recall." 

"Yeah, well, you weren't the one jumping out of burning buildings tonight, either. Let's not forget that, hmm?" Miyo blinked. "But you _were_ just full of some other surprises. How did you know the third eye was that thing's weak point?" 

Dhiti hesitated. "Well…it made sense. I mean, that guy only had two eyes when he changed. Why should he suddenly sprout a third one? So it had to be something special." 

"Uh-huh." Miyo nodded wisely. Just when Dhiti was starting to relax again she added, "And what's the real reason?" Dhiti's flinch was very satisfying. 

"Oh, come on, Hayashi, _you_ know! It was inevitable! A big glowing eye in the middle of its forehead? What else could it be? It was just like that viddy program—" 

"'Lords of the Black Moon.' Didn't know you were a fan, Dhiti-chan." Dhiti muttered something under her breath, and Miyo snickered. "Yeah, well, it's okay for an anime, though I don't seem to remember Nemesis being quite like that, myself." 

"Oh, I suppose _you_ remember seeing it personally." 

Miyo grinned. "Funny you should say that. But hang on, there's another thing—what's this Ice Spear thing that you were throwing around, anyway? I've never seen that before. What happened to the Shabon Spray?" 

"Shabon Spray? Oh, wait, that's that fog thing, right?" Dhiti gave her a pitying look. "Hayashi, please. Remember who you're talking to. Can you really see _me_ going around spraying _fog_?" 

"Uh, maybe not. But…Artemis, what's going on here? Venus said she couldn't do a Crescent Beam, and when I tried to do my Oak Evolution I almost passed out!" 

"For Venus and Mercury, it's a matter of temperament and personality," Artemis told her. "It's not surprising that they'd develop at different paces…and Dhiti-san is certainly a lot more, um, let's say assertive than Ami was." Dhiti grinned. "On the other hand, it'll be interesting to see how much she can do with the Mercury computer." The grin vanished. 

"Okay, but what about me?" 

"Well…" Artemis looked nervous, for some reason. "After all, you've been reborn. You may remember everything, but you don't have all the training reflexes and physical conditioning that you had back then." 

"What are you saying, Artemis?" said Miyo dangerously. 

"Um…have you ever heard the expression, 'back to basics'?" Artemis said, and ran for it. 

* * *

  

Chairman Fukuda of the Serenity Council answered the commset before it could buzz twice. "One here," he said crisply. 

"Twelve here," said the voice on the other end. "I've just had a report that our vitrimorph found Sailor Venus and attacked. Apparently it was defeated by _three_ Senshi—Venus, Jupiter and Mercury." 

The chairman smiled. "Excellent news," he said. 

* * *

  

Beth straightened her school uniform as well as she could, took a deep breath, and opened the front door. There was nobody in sight inside. She stepped in silently, stifling a gasp as she bent her knee a fraction too far, and closed the door behind her, fumbling a little with her burnt hands. When she turned around, there was still nobody there. Maybe she was going to get away with this after all. 

She very nearly made it to her room before her parents caught her. 

* * *

  

"Let me get this straight. You've been reborn as Sailor Jupiter _twice_ now?" 

"I'm afraid so." 

"I mean, doesn't that get sort of monotonous?" 

"Never with you around, Dhiti-chan." 

"Well, all right. Thanks. Umm…just one thing, though." 

"Yes?" 

"If, in some past life of yours, you were in the habit of eating slugs, I do _not_ want to know about it." 

* * *

  

Eventually Artemis remembered the meeting he'd set up with Itsuko, two days before. He managed to slip away from the girls, and dashed through the streets at full tilt. Even so he was very late, and Itsuko was tapping her foot angrily when he finally ran into the alley. 

Her anger didn't last long though. He had quite a lot of news for her. They found a secluded spot in a nearby park and talked for a long time. 

* * *

  

Much later that night, Captain Aoiro finished adjusting the bug on the reception desk. He checked with Mitsukai that the signal was coming in clearly, then headed back to the stairs. Up to the third floor of the Olympus building. He hoped this was going to turn out to be worth it; it was two o'clock in the morning and he was tired. But Hiiro thought they ought to do a thorough job, so here he was. 

He stifled a yawn. Most of the third floor was given over to health club facilities: the sauna and sun rooms, and the like. He didn't need to bother with any of those. But the gymnasium office and records were here, too; and apparently the owner of the place, Pappadopoulos, had a number of private rooms as well. An apartment, it seemed, though why anyone would want to live over a gym was beyond him. 

The lock on the office door was pretty good, and it took him a few minutes to get in. Placing the bugs took a while longer. It was after two thirty before he let himself out again. That only left the private rooms. 

They really _were_ an apartment, he saw. Quite a nice place, too, and surprisingly big for a single woman. He was tempted to leave—after all, Artemis was hardly likely to be wandering around in here, so there didn't seem much point in bugging the place—but Hiiro's voice, coming through the tab in his ear, ordered him to get on with it. With a sigh, he set to work. 

The last thing he expected to see, when he stepped into the kitchen, was a girl in a night-dress, getting a glass of water. 

She saw him, too, worse luck, and opened her mouth to scream. He lunged forward, grabbed hold of her—she was too startled to resist—and covered her mouth. All that escaped was a muffled squawk that wouldn't wake anybody. 

He recognised her, he suddenly realised. It was Ochiyo, the girl from the reception desk. What the hell was she doing, sleeping here? 

At least she wouldn't have recognised him, not with the balaclava and the face paint he was wearing. It felt silly, dressing up this way, but it had saved his ass a number of times. And once more tonight, he supposed. 

He hesitated, knowing what he had to do now and not wanting to do it. He liked Ochiyo, dammit. But Hiiro, in his ear, said, "Get a move on," and with a sigh he pulled out the spray and gave her a jet in the face. She stiffened, then relaxed; she would have fallen if he hadn't been holding on to her. He laid her gently down on the floor. 

She hadn't had a knockout dose; the drug would make her drowsy and very suggestible. "I want to find out what she's doing here," he said to Hiiro. 

There was a pause; then Hiiro, rather reluctantly, said, "All right. Make it quick." At the same time, Ochiyo yawned and said, "All right, Daddy." He suppressed a chuckle. 

He pulled her up into a sitting position so he could whisper in her ear. "What are you doing here tonight, Ochiyo-chan? Tell me very softly." 

It was simple enough, in the end. On the nights when she worked a late shift—usually once a week—Pappadopoulos let her sleep over in the guest room. Sensible enough, Aoiro supposed; after all, the streets in some districts of Third Tokyo weren't too safe at night. Not many employers would make that kind of offer, though. It almost made him feel bad about what he was doing. 

He shrugged, and let the girl slide to the floor. Nothing he had to worry about. He raised the spray again to give her the second, knockout dose…and suddenly hesitated as a new thought occurred to him. If Artemis was interested in this place— 

Leaning down, he whispered, "Ochiyo-chan, are you a Sailor Senshi?" 

"No, silly," she mumbled back. 

He nodded, and sprayed her unconscious. She wasn't a Senshi—but what if Artemis thought she was, or might be? Could that be why the cat had been hanging around the Olympus? He whispered the suggestion to Hiiro, who said, "Could be. Good thought. Now hurry up with the bugs and get out of there; you've been too long already. And don't forget you-know-what." 

Aoiro sighed, and got moving again. He'd been seen, and that meant he was going to have to leave a reason for having been here. In other words, he was going to have to burgle the place. 

And all the bugs would have to be positioned extra subtly, so they weren't found when Pappadopoulos was looking over the damage. He had a long night ahead of him. He sighed again, pocketed a rather nice silver picture-frame from the mantelpiece, and got back to work. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER FIVE**

**Next:** Trouble for Itsuko, a meeting of spies, an aerial chase, and a long-overdue meeting…

Thanks to my pre-reader, Sandy Drobic. 


	7. Chapter 6: Spies

**What has gone before:** It's the year 4200. More than seven hundred years ago, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet-unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the mysterious evil. All over the world, civilisation fell. Then, one hundred years ago, a great renaissance began. Today the city of Third Tokyo is the centre of a new world order, ruled by the shadowy Serenity Council. 

Artemis survived the final battle; now he and his great-granddaughter Bendis are searching for a new generation of Senshi. Shortly after they argue and split up, Bendis discovers the new Sailor Venus: a girl called McCrea Beth. For his part, Artemis finds the new Jupiter and Mercury—Hayashi Miyo and Sharma Dhiti. Miyo is actually Kino Makoto, now reborn in her third lifetime; but when Artemis tries to re-awaken her memory of her previous life as Sailor Jupiter, he accidentally restores her memory of the Silver Millennium as well. 

The first exploits of the Senshi are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction: some people hate them; others want to worship them. The Council, already searching for Bendis, create "vitrimorphs"—crystalline monsters designed to hunt Senshi. 

Meanwhile Artemis asks an old friend to help find Bendis again: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, who also survived the fall of Crystal Tokyo. Now powerless, she tries to avoid recognition, taking the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko, owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. But her efforts to help Artemis draw attention, and a security team begins a secret investigation of the Olympus, causing Itsuko to send Artemis away. 

Pluto has also survived the fall and, using the name Fumihiko Sadako, is secretly working to help the others—altering records to hinder the Olympus investigation, and sabotaging the Senshi detectors being mounted in a patrol vehicle. 

Venus, Jupiter and Mercury meet for the first time while lending help at a major fire. Afterward they are attacked by a vitrimorph and defeat it. But the Council is strangely pleased… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER SIX  
Spies:  
Secrets, Lies, Ears and Eyes**

Beth dreamed: 

She stood in the road, facing a monstrous creature that was trying to kill her. Behind her, there was a building on fire. But that didn't matter; it was irrelevant. Her knee and her hands didn't hurt at all. The monster roared toward her and she stepped aside nimbly, and used her Love-Me Chain to trip it up. There was nothing to it. 

Then the monster threw her into a wall, and Sailor Jupiter had to rescue her. _That's not fair,_ she thought indignantly; _I'm supposed to be the hero!_ And Jupiter mocked her, told her she was just an amateur, and should leave it to the professionals. But then Jupiter got into trouble too, and Beth saved _her_. It was an immensely satisfying moment. And suddenly there was another Senshi on the scene, appearing out of nowhere, and Jupiter called her 

_Dhiti?_

and together they defeated the monster, and everyone started cheering. Quite suddenly she realised that they were shouting her name, her _real_ name, and when she looked down at herself she realised that she was just plain Beth, not Sailor Venus at all. That wasn't right, was it? But nobody seemed to mind. She smiled and waved to the crowd, and her hands and her knee still didn't hurt, and then she saw that Eitoku was in the crowd, cheering harder than all the rest. He ran up to her, and put his arms around her, and she felt a strange warmth in her belly; and then somehow the crowd and the other two Senshi were gone, and there was just her and Eitoku, and he bent his head to kiss her— 

It became another kind of dream entirely.

- - -

Miyo dreamed: 

She was at home on Callisto. She was six years old. Her parents were there—her real parents, her first parents. It was an ordinary, peaceful evening. Her mother was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and she wanted to help; and when, for the first time ever, her mother gave her some simple task to do, she was so thrilled and proud that Mommy was trusting _her_ to help that she made a complete botch of it, and dropped a glass bowl on the floor, and when it broke she started to cry and— 

—And her daddy came into the kitchen and picked her up and soothed her, and she felt warm and safe and utterly secure in those strong arms. Somehow, even in her dream, she knew that within a year he and Mommy would be dead, and she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him desperately, wanting to hold onto this moment forever. And in the moment before he pried her loose so that he could breathe again, in that too-brief moment when she gazed up at his face, shining lovingly down at her, she realised something that she would never, ever, remember by daylight: 

Her sempai looked like her daddy.

- - -

Itsuko dreamed: 

She saw the Ginzuishou. That was a wonder in itself; it had been lost after the fall of Crystal Tokyo, though she had looked for it when she escaped from the ruin of the Palace. As she watched, a Senshi—Itsuko couldn't make out her face—reached out her hand to pick it up. There was a shout; she looked up, to see Sailor Pluto (Pluto!) crying out, "Don't touch it…!" 

_Shift_ She saw herself standing in a grassy field, talking to a Senshi; and she almost wept at the bitter knowledge that the Senshi was Sailor Mars. 

_Shift_ Then she stood in her office, here in the Olympus, facing two men—but again, she could not make out their faces. They were pointing weapons at her, and she knew there was only one way out. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a henshin wand, and shouted familiar words… 

She awoke. There were tears in her eyes. She sat up in bed, trying to make sense of it, for a long time.

- - -

Dhiti dreamed: 

She was in an alleyway, watching her friend at work. Her friend who was risking her life to save people caught in a fire. Her friend who had unexpectedly turned out to be Sailor Jupiter. 

That had been stunning in real life, and it had taken her some time to be able to breath again, and more time to remember to close her mouth. But in her dream, events went the way they _should_ have gone. So she wasn't staring, her heart pounding, as Sailor Jupiter defied death. Instead she was shaking her head at her friend's antics, and considering how to drop a few hints about the episode—enough to make Hayashi nervous, but not enough to tell her for sure that Dhiti knew—and thinking that she really ought to leave before she got caught…when she heard the voice behind her. 

"Just before you go, I wonder if I might have a word?" 

She turned in surprise—caught after all!—but there was nobody there. Just a white cat, gazing up at her. Had she been imagining things? She shook her head, trying to clear it; and then the cat (the cat!) spoke again. 

"You're one of Miyo's friends, aren't you? I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." 

What came next was kind of embarrassing, and something in her tried to change it, rewrite this part too. But now her traitorous dream insisted on following the reality script, and she-the-dreamer could only watch and cringe as she-in-the-alley stared at the cat, slack-jawed, and made a pathetic gibbering noise: _whaa-aa-aa-a-a…_

For some irritating reason this seemed to please the cat. "My name's Artemis, by the way," he said, with just a hint of satisfaction, "and there's something very important I have to tell you." 

She might have gibbered some more, but at that moment (thank goodness!) there was a sudden noise from the street: a shot, and then a scream. Dhiti and the cat raced to the alley mouth, and saw that things had changed. Jupiter and Venus were together, and facing them was a—what? A _thing_, a monstrous crystalline form that was all too clearly trying to kill them… 

There was a strange, burning sensation on her forehead. 

"Damn!" said the cat. "No time to talk. You've got to help them." 

There probably wasn't much that could have gotten Dhiti's attention right then, but that did it. "What?" she demanded, forgetting (for an instant) who and _what_ she was talking to. 

The cat gave her a firm look that somehow she knew was a frown, and said, "I felt something from you before, and now it's certain. You are Sailor Mercury, and you must help the other Senshi." 

And he spun about madly for a moment, and when he stopped she saw, lying on the ground, a short rod with a vaguely-familiar symbol at the tip…and suddenly she knew, with a cold shock, that this was real; she was talking to the legendary Artemis, and he was offering her— 

She felt a grin beginning to form. He was offering her the chance of a lifetime. 

"Pick it up," Artemis told her softly. "Say the words." 

She reached out her hand— 

Time seemed to freeze. 

In the real world, what followed did not actually happen. But in her dream it did, and that was real too: 

She reached out her hand and said, "What the hell. I'll give it a try for a while, see how I like it." 

"No," Artemis told her solemnly. "This isn't something you can pick up, then drop. If you take this chance, there's no way out. No turning back. You must follow the path all the way." 

His words seemed to ring in her ears. "All the way. Wherever it leads." 

For a moment she hesitated. It seemed to her that she could see the road ahead, and it ran into impenetrable darkness. An inner voice urged her to think again, to choose the light. But then— 

_Hey, I'm Sharma Dhiti. I make my own light._

—And suddenly time was moving again, and reality was following its old path, and she took the henshin wand and raised it to the sky, exultant, and shouted the words that were her birthright. 

"MERCURY POWER, MAKE-UP!" 

And there was light aplenty. A cool light, a stream of cold fire that poured through her, thrilling, exhilarating. A flood of power that spun about her. She felt her clothes shifting and changing; then, more subtly, her whole body. And when it was done— 

Sailor Mercury stood for a moment in what was half a pose, and half the end of an intricate dance, a dance of transformation. Outside the alley, she saw her friend in trouble, trying to fight a horrific creature that was clearly too strong for her. She burned to help, to strike at the thing…and suddenly, she realised that she knew how. 

She sprinted out of the alley, on her first steps down the path laid out for her. When the time came, as always, she did what came naturally.

- - -

Sadako dreamed: 

She was at home—the home of her youth, her childhood. It was a bright, warm, sunny day; her friends and her family were there, all around her, and for a moment, just for a moment, she felt happy. 

Then she saw that none of them had faces. 

None of them had faces, because she no longer remembered what they looked like. Somehow, even in her dream, she realised this. They were lost to the years, like her home, her youth, and everything else that had mattered to her. She faced that realisation for a moment, unflinching; and then, with the skill of unspeakably long experience, she turned her dream to other matters; and if she no longer felt happy, at least she got the rest she needed, to be able to continue to do what needed to be done… 

* * *

  

The morning was grey and drizzly. Itsuko woke up at six-thirty as usual—she was seldom off by more than five minutes either way, though she never used an alarm clock—and got out of bed with a sigh. Another Tuesday. Another day running a gymnasium, hooray. _I need a holiday,_ she thought sourly. Then she remembered that she couldn't afford to take a holiday at the moment; not with a crisis just beginning to take shape. Hooray. She shrugged on a robe, and stumped out to the kitchen for coffee. 

All thoughts of coffee vanished when she saw Ochiyo's body lying on the floor. 

She froze. _What the—_

For a moment that seemed like an eternity she stood, staring. Her thoughts moved sluggishly. Ochiyo? What was _she_ doing here? Then, foggily, she remembered: the girl had worked the late shift, last night; and as usual Itsuko had let her sleep in the guest room, rather than sending her out at midnight. 

_But she's dead,_ the voice in her head insisted petulantly. _What's she doing dead on my kitchen floor?_

Then she saw that Ochiyo was breathing, and suddenly reality snapped back into focus. 

_Holy shit._ She ran forward and knelt at the girl's side, feeling her forehead. She wasn't dead. But she didn't stir when Itsuko shook her. Some kind of attack, or seizure? Her forehead wasn't warm. No fever. _Damn, what am I supposed to do now—_

She realised she was dithering, and took control of herself firmly. Ochiyo was breathing steadily, but wouldn't wake up. All right. She fetched a blanket and wrapped it around the girl, trying not to move her too much. Then she walked briskly through to her office, and called for an ambulance. Ten minutes until it arrived, the operator told her. 

She went back to the kitchen. On the way, she started to realise how different the suite looked this morning. 

The absence of familiar objects was the first thing she noticed. It was just a nagging feeling, at first: something subliminally out of place. She stopped, confused for a moment, and looked around her. That was when she finally noticed the mess all around her. 

It took her a few seconds to realised what had happened. That she had been burgled. Then, with a curse, she headed back to the office to make another call. It wasn't even seven o'clock, and already it was a lousy day. She had a feeling that it wasn't going to improve. 

After calling 'P' Division, she started back to the kitchen again, and then had to turn back to the office _again_ when she realised that she hadn't warned the night receptionist downstairs what to expect. Then, finally, she made it back to Ochiyo's side. 

This was going to be bad publicity, she thought absently, stroking the girl's forehead without really noticing. The Olympus was a popular spot, and the newsies would probably pick up the story. At least there weren't many clients in at this hour; but even so, it was going to be bad for business. She really ought to go down, ready to handle the inevitable inquiries. 

The hell with that. Being here was more important. The Olympus was just a business. If she didn't look after her people, how could she live with herself? 

She thought of the girl-turned-queen who'd taught her that, long ago, and smiled. 

The commset buzzed. It was the receptionist downstairs; the ambulance and the police had arrived. Itsuko rose and went to let them in. 

* * *

  

"I got into a fight," Beth said nervously. "All right?" They'd cornered her as she arrived at school. She should have expected it. 

"Just asking," said Nanako, shrugging. She eyed the bandage around Beth's knee and added, "Must've been some fight, though." 

Beth sighed. "It was." She didn't know which was worse: her father, Bendis or Nanako. Her father's alarm at her injuries, and then his anger when she said she'd been fighting: that she could understand. Bendis…had acted kind of funny, once she'd finished her own lecture. But Nanako's brand of wide-eyed innocence and bubbly good-natured laziness was worse, in some ways. She felt guilty for being annoyed at Nanako, for one thing. 

"Since when do you go around fighting, anyway?" inquired Eitoku. 

"Look, I…I'd really rather not talk about it, all right?" It was, of course, impossible to be annoyed at Eitoku. Even if he was being nosy. He should be grateful that she'd saved him last night—or, no, that was just her dream, wasn't it? Well, she'd saved several people, and helped save more. That should count for something. 

"I know! She was defending your honour, Eitoku-kun," giggled Nanako, unwittingly mirroring Beth's own thoughts. "It's so romantic! Beth-chan, tell us all about it—" 

"Will you stop that?" said Beth, blushing. "That wasn't it at all—I mean, ahh, not that I wouldn't, um…" She trailed off, her face bright scarlet. 

"It looks pretty bad," commented Iku unexpectedly. "And you've got a black eye, too." 

"Yeah, my Dad took me out to the doctor," Beth said, grateful for the distraction. "He says my knee's sprained, but it's not as bad as it looks. I should be much better by Thursday." _I hope,_ she added to herself. She did heal faster now, one of the few advantages of being a Senshi that she could see, but it was still pretty sore to walk on. 

"I guess you missed all the excitement last night, then?" inquired Eitoku. He'd taken no notice of Nanako's teasing comments. He never did, when they were about Beth. Beth wasn't quite sure what to think about that. He had to know how she felt, didn't he? So why didn't he ever say anything? 

"Excitement?" she said, somewhat lamely. 

Oh, great. Suddenly everyone was staring at her. "You haven't _heard_?" demanded Nanako. Beth shook her head, trying to look puzzled. 

"I don't believe this! You miss _everything_ around here!" Nanako complained. "It was the Senshi! And there's three of them now! And they had a big battle last night, and Iku-chan actually _saw_ it! How can you not have heard—" 

"You saw it?" Beth said, startled. She hadn't seen her in the crowd. Of course, she'd been concentrating on other things at the time… 

Iku looked flustered. "I was on my way home from school," she said meekly. "I saw the smoke, and went to see." 

Beth remembered, just in time, that she wasn't supposed to know what had happened. "Smoke?" she said. 

That was enough of a hint, fortunately. Nanako leaped in and started to tell her exactly what had happened, blow by blow, as if she'd been the one there. Beth listened, bemused. At least _someone_ was pleased about the night before.

- - -

Bendis certainly hadn't been pleased. She had acted quite oddly, really, when she heard that there were two more Senshi. Almost as if she were afraid of something. But why? 

Perhaps, Beth thought slowly as the lecture droned on, it had something to do with the cat's strange reluctance to discuss—or even mention—Artemis. The excuse that he was away on a secret mission elsewhere had long since grown thin, and now it was clear that he too was in Tokyo, recruiting other Senshi. Beth had gone through more than a dozen theories to try and explain it, but none of them really seemed to fit. And Bendis just became evasive when she tried to ask directly. 

Maybe there was some kind of secret plan to bring her and the other Senshi together when the time was right, she thought. When the Moon Princess was found, possibly. Wasn't that how it had happened, two thousand years ago? Well, something like that, anyway. But why wouldn't Bendis _say_? 

After a while Bendis' tirade degenerated into a telling-off for not using all the manoeuvres they'd practised. Beth hesitantly pointed out that none of the cat-fighting techniques really seemed to apply to a huge crystalline monster several times larger than Beth herself. Trying to bite its neck, for example, would have posed certain difficulties. 

"That's just typical of a human," Bendis told her. "No flexibility! You're not thinking like a cat. There are lots of perfectly good ways of attacking something like that. I'll—" She hesitated, then went on, "I'll show you tomorrow night. You'll see!" 

Beth nodded meekly, and the cat finally let her go to bed. As she closed her eyes, Beth smiled. She had suspected, for some time now, that Bendis was simply making up most of what she was teaching her. On the other hand, the cat _was_ very creative, and her manoeuvres often worked quite well. Even the failures could sometimes be adapted into something useful. Beth was looking forward to seeing what Bendis would come up with this time.

- - -

She listened as Nanako's account of the battle droned on. It was pretty accurate, for the most part, though Beth didn't remember the monster carrying a bazooka. But of course that was Nanako through and through. 

Eitoku, on the other hand, simply listened with little reaction. That was disappointing; though really, it was actually something of an improvement. He'd been rather critical of the new Senshi—of _her_—before. At least he finally seemed to believe that they were real. He'd come around in the end; she was sure of it. 

As for Iku…Beth shook her head. The girl was, as ever, totally closed; a real mystery. What was wrong with her? She seldom spoke, seldom seemed to do anything much. She'd been the one on the scene last night, and she was letting Nanako do all the talking! Beth couldn't figure her out at all. 

She'd asked Nanako about her, a couple of days before, but Nanako simply shook her head and said, "She's always been very quiet." Then, with a frown, she added, "She's worse since you came along. Funny…" 

"Maybe she doesn't like me," Beth suggested. She had the impression that Nanako knew more than she was saying. 

Nanako grinned. "Maybe she doesn't like your cat! She prefers dogs, you know." Then she looked annoyed, as if she'd said something she shouldn't, and added, "I don't know. It's odd, though…" 

Now, Nanako was finally wrapping up her account of last night's action. Beth listened with half an ear. Something was nagging at her, right on the tip of her tongue. Something somebody had said. What was it? 

"…And blasted it to atoms!" Nanako finished triumphantly. She gave Beth an expectant look. "So, what do you think?" 

"Um…" Beth frowned. Suddenly she remembered what it was. "Do you know if there's anyone around here named Dhiti?" 

The bell rang. Nanako stared at her for a moment; then, muttering something under her breath, she turned and headed in to class. After a few seconds, still puzzled, Beth followed her. 

* * *

  

"I got into a fight," Miyo said testily. "All right?" They'd cornered her as she arrived at school. She should have expected it. 

"So what else is new?" said Kin, unimpressed. Dhiti laughed, and Miyo shot her a withering look. 

"Must've been some fight, though," Kin added. "You're pretty banged up." 

"She was taking on someone bigger than her again," Dhiti told her. "I saw the whole thing." 

"Will you shut up?" said Miyo, pained. 

"What, are you kidding?" Dhiti was enjoying this far too much. "You should have see it, Kin-chan! She demolished him. I mean, really, she demolished him." 

Miyo groaned. She was in hell. 

Kin still wasn't terribly interested, fortunately. "I guess you missed all the excitement last night, then?" she inquired. 

"Excitement?" asked Miyo. 

"You don't know?" Kin exclaimed. "The Sailor Senshi had a big battle last night! Not far from here, too. It was on the news. Didn't you see?" 

"On the news?" Well, they ought to have expected that, Miyo thought. Somehow, in the heat of the moment, she'd forgotten how many people had been watching. It was so different, this time around! Before, they'd been urban myths. In this age, they were celebrities. How were they supposed to handle it? _I should ask Artemis,_ she mused. They had to keep their identities secret, of course, especially while they were still this young, but…she shook her head. Kin was speaking again. 

"Yeah! There was some guy in the crowd who had a camera. It was so cool! Oh, and there's three of them now! Venus and Jupiter and, um, I forget who the other one was…" 

"How fleeting is fame," murmured Dhiti. 

"What? You know, sometimes I don't understand you at _all_. Geez, Dhiti-chan, you were all over the moon about Sailor Venus when she appeared, and now you're not even interested! Even you don't get usually bored with things _this_ fast." 

"Oh, well, you know how it goes," said Dhiti airily. "Venus is, like, ancient history. If there's two more Senshi, though, who knows? Maybe I'll like one of them better." 

"I'm sure," Miyo muttered. Why couldn't she be like Dhiti? Always quick with the facile answer, never taking anything seriously—able to joke about it all without raising suspicion, because everyone knew she was always joking anyway… 

"Mercury!" said Kin suddenly. "I remember now. That was the other new one." 

"Mercury," mused Dhiti, with a rather-too-innocent look on her face. "Well, well. Mercury. Hmm. Now there's a thought. The smart one." 

"What, are you kidding?" said Kin. "Sailor Jupiter, now, there's a Senshi for you. And she was the one who blasted that monster last night, too." 

Miyo looked over at Dhiti, waited until she was sure she had the other girl's eye, and smiled at her. Dhiti rolled her eyes. 

"Well, well," said a familiar voice. "The usual gang, at it already I see." Wright Mark strolled through the gate, grinning cheerfully, with Keenan Liam right behind him as usual. "So what is it today?" he inquired, noticing the war of grins going on. "Not more of your cooking, I hope." 

"I," announced Miyo, "am going to be _very_ unpleasant to the next person who mentions—" 

"Perish the thought," said Liam hastily. 

"You're not the one I was thinking of," she retorted, eyeing Mark and Dhiti. "Just so we all know where we're at," she added. 

"I assure you," Mark said in an injured tone, "I hadn't the slightest intention of mentioning…certain gastropods…" 

"Careful," said Dhiti, snickering. 

"Pa dachiel!" cursed Miyo. This was just too much. "I suppose everyone at school knows about that by now, right?" 

"Come on, Hayashi," Dhiti admonished. "Even Kin-chan needs a _little_ time to spread rumours. Be fair. Give her an hour or so more." 

"Hey!" protested Kin. "I don't go spreading rumours; _you're_ the one who does that." Then she grinned. "At least, that's what I always tell everyone." 

"Ah, so you're the one to blame for that! My revenge will be slow and terrible, possibly involving tweezers. Let's see, what can I tell people about you…?" 

"Tell them she's in love with Mark," suggested Miyo evilly. "No, wait. With Liam-kun." 

"Wonderful," murmured Mark. "I'm the lesser of two evils." 

"With me?" exclaimed Liam at the same time. "Acushla!" he cried dramatically, falling to his knees before Kin. "And wasn't I thinking you'd never come to your senses?" 

Kin groaned. "I'm going to get you for this," she told Miyo. Then she grabbed Liam by the arm and hauled him away, saying, "C'mon, lover-boy. Let's find you a bucket of cold water to soak your head in." 

She was smiling, though. 

Miyo watched them go, her mouth hanging open. "What?" she said. "Wait a minute. She really _does_ like him?" 

"Well, well," said Dhiti thoughtfully. "Did you know anything about this, Wright-kun?" 

But Mark, too, was looking surprised. "No," he said. "I knew there's a girl he's interested in; he told me down at the gym, a couple of days ago. But I didn't think it was Kin-san. I hope—" 

The bell rang. Mark sighed, then glanced over at Miyo. "See you at lunch-time?" he inquired, winking. Then he took off, without waiting for an answer. 

"I knew it," said Dhiti. "He _is_ sweet on you, Hayashi." She shook her head. "This is unfair! You get him, and Kin-chan gets Liam-kun…dammit, who's left for me?" 

"Someone normal, perhaps?" 

"Don't be silly, where'd the fun be in that? C'mon, we'll be late." They started to head in to class. As they walked, Dhiti added, "Hey, what was that you said before? 'Pa dachiel?' Or something like that?" 

"What!" Miyo stopped suddenly. "I didn't say that, did I?" Dhiti nodded, and she sighed. "It's ancient Callistan," she said resignedly. "Not very polite." 

"Callistan? What's—? Oh! As in the moon of Jupiter?" 

"Yes. I used to live there. Damn!" Miyo hesitated, then said quietly, "Look, if you hear me start to talk nonsense—you know, other languages—let me know, will you? I…well, I don't always notice." 

Dhiti stared back at her. "I'll do that," she said seriously. 

* * *

  

After the policemen had left, Itsuko spent some time picking through the suite, trying to make a list of what was missing. She didn't like this one bit. It was a nasty feeling, knowing that somebody had been in here while she was sleeping. 

Ochiyo wasn't sick at all. She had started to come around even as the paramedics examined her. One of the 'P' Division men recognised the symptoms. She'd been dosed with halogyne: a fast-acting knockout spray. Uncommon, but becoming more popular with the criminal world, it seemed. Ochiyo was incoherent for a few minutes when she awoke, but soon enough she was able to confirm that she'd met the burglar, and that he'd sprayed her with something. 

The paramedics wanted to check her into the hospital, just in case; but Ochiyo put her foot down. She was shaken, and a little scared, but determined not to let this get to her. After being reassured that there were no known side-effects to the drug, Itsuko supported her. She called the girl's father—a rather cold and pragmatic man; she didn't like him much—and told him what had happened. He arrived to pick her up half an hour later, leaving Itsuko alone in her newly-denuded suite. 

—It did seem rather odd. Her rooms were on the third floor of the building. Why had she been burgled, when nothing else in the building had been touched? The bottom level was filled with retail shops, but as far as anyone could tell, none of them had been entered. It was as if she had been singled out. 

That might be it, she realised. She was running a successful business, after all. Perhaps they'd been after the takings? But most of her income was from monthly, quarterly and annual memberships, and from the rents on the shops downstairs. She kept little cash on the premises. Still…she went into the office and checked the safe. It did look as if someone had tried to get into it. Something else to report to 'P' Division. 

She closed the wall-panel that hid the safe and leaned back against her desk, sighing. As she did so, her arm brushed against the little tub of paper-clips and knocked it to the floor. Groaning, she bent down to pick the clips up again. Quite a few were strewn under the desk, and she had to crawl to get them. As she came out again, her hair caught painfully on something. Muttering angrily, she glanced up to see what it was, and froze. 

It was very well camouflaged. A casual glance wouldn't have noticed it at all. But she was looking in just the right spot, and she could see it clearly. 

Somebody had bugged her desk. 

She managed to suppress her gasp of surprise. The bug looked audio-only, thank goodness: a tiny device, smaller than her little fingernail, made of a clear, non-reflective plastic in which a fine web of wires was embedded. It was mostly transparent, virtually invisible in the darkness. If she hadn't been looking right at it… 

She crawled out and stood up once more, slamming the tub of paper-clips down in the desk for the benefit of whoever was listening. 

This put a whole new complexion on the burglary. On a lot of things. 

She could rule out industrial espionage immediately. It was impossible to believe that another gymnasium was spying on her. The idea was simply ridiculous. That meant that somebody knew something. Probably something dangerous. 

A few days before, she'd seen someone outside setting up cameras. She'd thought they'd spotted Artemis. But could it have been _her_ they were after? Had she been careless? They wouldn't plant microphones to track a cat. Unless they knew the cat could talk, of course; but… 

She buried her face in her hands, trying to think clearly. Her first impulse was to run—get out quickly, use her emergency kit and take up a new identity somewhere else. But if she was being watched, her chances of success were slim. And hiding would be difficult when she did not even know who she was hiding from… 

In any case, she could not run. Not with the crisis coming. 

And after all, she thought wryly, it wasn't as if she'd actually done anything wrong. Well, not very wrong. Being older than she looked wasn't against the law. The worst that could happen was that her cover would be blown, that she'd be exposed as Hino Rei. That would be bad, but at least she'd still be on hand, still able to offer help. Whatever help she was capable of. 

And maybe she could even avoid that much, she realised. There was a chance that whoever was watching her didn't know much. She could try to keep it that way. Contain the problem. 

After all, she had contacts. In her position she needed them; apart from anything else, every so often she needed a new name, and that was getting hard to manage. But she knew people who could do things. 

She dressed for outdoors and walked downstairs, nodding to the receptionist on the way. Outside, she started briskly away from the Olympus building. This was a call she didn't want to make from inside. Especially not now, when she couldn't trust her own commset. 

She walked down the street for a few minutes, then stopped, making a show of suddenly remembering something. There was a comm booth nearby. She hurried over, inserted her credit chit into the commset's reader, and punched in a number from memory. 

The voice that answered was bluff, curt. "Yes?" 

"Jiro? Is that you?" she said. "It's Itsuko." 

"Itsuko? Jiro? I think you got the wrong number, lady." 

She grinned, and named a few names. 

"Itsuko!" Suddenly the voice sounded much warmer. "Yiasou omorfi! Ti kanis?" 

She held back a sigh. Taking a half-Greek identity had seemed like a good idea when she'd thought of it, years before. No enclaves had survived in Greece (though the country was reviving fast), so it made her background very difficult to check. Also, having peculiar ancestry made it easier for her to get away with a few of her own peculiarities. 

The disadvantage was that sometimes she met someone who spoke a little Greek. "Arketa kala, efharisto," she answered casually. "Koita, thelo voithia." 

"Any help you need, you got," he said seriously. "You know that." 

She smiled. Jiro remembered old favours. "Thanks, but this is some rather special help. Look—" She told him what she'd found. "I guess I have to assume there's more than one bug," she added. 

There was a slight pause at the other end. "All right. I can handle that," he said after a few seconds. "You just want them removed? Or you want a false signal, so they think they're still working?" 

"Can you do that?" she asked, surprised. 

"Hey, why you calling me, if you don' think I can get the job done? Sure I can do it. I know some people, y'know?" After a moment's pause he added, "Listen, what you getting into, Itsuko-chan? Who you got on your back?" 

"Believe me, if I knew that I'd tell you. You know I've got things to hide." Jiro didn't know the half of it, of course. But he knew that she was not who she said she was. 

"Yeah. Well, maybe I can help with that too, maybe not. We'll see. It'll take me a few hours to get the people an' the equipment. Can you wait that long?" 

She was surprised again. Jiro must think he owed her a lot more than she did. "I could have waited a couple of days, actually," she said, not trying to keep the pleasure out of her voice. "Jiro, you're a life-saver." 

"Any time. You know that. Any time, ever. Can you get me an' my people in without being seen?" 

She had to laugh. "Jiro, I run a gymnasium. Just come in as if you're going to get some exercise." 

He laughed back. "Okay. I call you when we're on our way." 

"Right. Thanks, Jiro." She hung up and stepped out of the booth, pocketing her credit chit. 

All right. That was done. Now, to perform a few unnecessary errands before heading back. Just in case someone was watching. 

* * *

  

Beth picked at her lunch dispiritedly. As usual, the four of them—Eitoku, Nanako, Iku and herself—had met for lunch in their favourite spot, in a little area off to one side of the school grounds. The other three had been coming here for a long time even before Beth was drawn into their group, she knew, and most of the other students seemed to tacitly acknowledge that their area was "theirs." 

She leaned back with a sigh, her lunch still unfinished. They had started off talking about the new Senshi again—the topic was all the rage throughout the school once more—and Beth had tried to throw in some comments that didn't sound like she knew exactly what had happened. But after a while the conversation lapsed. Eitoku seemed nervous about something, and Nanako was preoccupied, which was unusual for her, and Iku…was her normal cryptic self. 

Beth was just as glad, really. She didn't feel like talking either. Her leg ached like a demon, and her shoulder was throbbing again from when she'd been thrown into that wall; and more than anything else she felt like lying back and relaxing. The sun was warm, and she felt sleepy. 

Nanako yawned, excused herself, got up and walked off in the direction of the toilet block. Beth watched her go for a few seconds, then glanced away, bored. She found herself staring at the clump of bushes not far away, and remembered the day (not too long ago actually) when Nanako had caught her there, lying hidden and spying on Eitoku. She shook her head, flushing at the memory. But of course that hadn't really worked out so badly, after all— 

She blinked. What was that? A movement in the bushes. She tried to watch it from the corner of her eye. Yes, there. It was— 

Oh. It was that creepy little kid. Nanako had spotted him yesterday, spying on them. She supposed he must have a crush on one of them. Perhaps even on her, she suddenly thought, a little startled at the idea. But that was silly, surely? 

It was a pity Nanako had just left. She would have enjoyed seeing the kid.

- - -

Hideo peered out from the bushes, observing his quarry. He was trying to keep low and make no sudden movements, the way they did in action movies on the viddy. It seemed to be working so far. 

Which one of them was Sailor Venus? There were four people, but Bendis had only been interested in three of them: Higoshi Nanako, Shiomi Eitoku and Kodama Iku. One of those three had to be the one. Well, not Shiomi, obviously; he was a boy. That meant Higoshi or Kodama. 

Higoshi had walked away a few minutes ago. He continued to study Kodama, wishing he had a pair of binoculars. She did seem to be about the right height, but her hair was rather long, and braided. That didn't seem quite right. He spared a glance at the other girl, the one he didn't know. She would almost have done, he thought for a moment; but then he remembered that Bendis hadn't been interested in her, and dismissed the idea. 

He turned his attention to Kodama. She was always so quiet. Maybe that was a pose, though. Like a superhero's secret identity. He frowned, and reached out to pull a branch out of the way— 

"Gotcha!" 

He jerked upright with a yelp. Caught! One of the teachers must be snooping around. Resigned, ready for the inevitable telling-off, he looked up…into the grinning face of Higoshi Nanako.

- - -

Catching people spying from these bushes was getting to be a habit. Nanako watched a series of expressions flit across the kid's face: surprise, chagrin, confusion, anger, resignation…He was a cool one, she thought, amused. Pretty good for someone his age. 

"Aren't you a little young to be girl-watching?" she asked. 

He wasn't fazed. "It was a dare," he said. 

"Uh-huh." She grinned. "Was it a dare yesterday, too?" 

That one did throw him. He recovered fast, though. "I wanted to see if I could get away with it twice." 

Uh-huh. Sure. She had to respect him, though; it was a pretty good story. Under other circumstances it might have been very tough to crack. 

Not this time, though. "Funny thing," she said. "When I asked around yesterday, to find out who you were, I found out that _you'd_ been asking who _we_ were, a couple of weeks ago. That's quite a dare." 

She watched his eyes widen, listened to him start to stammer, groping for an excuse, before she went for the knock-out. "I also heard that you'd been asking about cats," she said. 

He fell silent, looking panic-stricken. _Game and set,_ she thought smugly. 

"Now as it happens," she went on, "I do know someone who has a cat. A tabby cat. And it's funny—this cat has a peculiar mark. Right on its forehead. Like a scar. Shaped like—hmm, how to describe it…" 

"Full moon," he whispered. 

She beamed at him. "Why, yes! Just like a full moon. Isn't that interesting?" 

He was silent for a moment. Then he burst out, "It's you, isn't it! You're the one! Sailor Venus…" 

Game, set _and_ match. 

"No, it's not me," she told him, shaking her head. "Sorry." She watched his face for a moment—saw the disappointment slowly shifting to suspicion—and then said, "But you know, there's another funny thing. This girl I know, the one with the cat—well, you remember a week or so ago, when Sailor Venus got shot? I'm sure you saw it on the viddy. And the next morning, this girl had a sore arm, in exactly the same place. Now isn't _that_ interesting?" 

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. 

She ignored him. "And as for yesterday…well, we both know what happened yesterday evening. And today, this girl can hardly walk straight, she's got a black eye, and it hurts her to move her shoulder. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?" 

"Who—" he began. 

"So many interesting things going on at the moment," Nanako mused. She threw him a sharp glance. "Now what _I_ find interesting, just at the moment," she added, "is you. You and…a certain cat. What do you know about that cat, Kawatake Hideo?" 

He visibly debated whether to tell her or not. At last he said, "I've talked to it. To her." 

"Ah!" Nanako beamed at him. "It seems we have information to exchange. Isn't this fun?" 

Reluctantly, he nodded. 

It didn't actually take very long. Neither of them knew all that much, really. Nanako knew who Venus was, of course. Hideo knew Bendis' name, and had had some tantalising hints from her about the Great Fall, but that was all. Nevertheless, by the time the recitations were over, the two of them were unmistakably conspirators. 

And Nanako had one other piece of information, but for now she kept that to herself, unsure whether it was really relevant. A name: Dhiti. 

"Her?" Hideo kept saying, looking through the bushes at where Beth lay, dozing in the sun. "But…but Bendis said that she was interested in you, or Shiomi-san or Kodama-san." 

Nanako grinned. "Perhaps Bendis is a little more intelligent than you gave her credit for," she suggested. 

Hideo was taking a longer, harder look. "You're right," he breathed. "It _is_ her. She looks exactly like Sailor Venus." 

"She does?" Nanako blinked. Then she got down on all fours and peered through the bushes herself. "She does. I'll be—why didn't I ever see that before?" 

It was uncanny. The pictures she'd seen on the viddy had been blurred, hard to make out; but nevertheless, the similarity was unmistakable. How could she have missed it before? It was as if— 

—It was as if something had prevented her from seeing it. Her and Hideo both. After all, she hadn't worked out Beth's secret from the way she looked; it had been based on a cat, the girl's injuries, and her general uneasiness and shiftiness whenever the Senshi were mentioned. Beth really wasn't any good at hiding things. If Eitoku and Iku paid more attention to what went on around them (and if Eitoku wasn't so determinedly ignoring all the cow-eyed looks that Beth kept throwing him), they'd have noticed too. 

But then, if nobody could see that Beth looked like Sailor Venus, why should anybody put the rest together? That took someone different. Someone nosy. 

She exchanged glances with Hideo. There was more magic around Beth than either of them had realised. It was something to think about.

- - -

Beth opened one eye as Nanako came back and sat down. "You were a long time," she said idly. 

"Oh, well, I got side-tracked," Nanako answered. She yawned. "Why, did I miss something?" 

Beth yawned too. "Not likely. We've just been dozing." 

Nanako beamed at her. "Yeah, it's too nice a day to spoil." Then she cast a suspicious glance at Eitoku. "Of course, there's always one," she muttered. Raising her voice, she demanded, "Have you been reading that book all this time?" 

He jumped, clutching the book defensively. "What? No! Yes! There's nothing wrong with that!" 

She shook her head, tsk'ing sadly. "All this studying…it's bad for you, Eitoku-kun. You'll strain that brain thing of yours, or something. You need to relax more. Go with the flow." 

"But—" he began to protest. 

"No buts. C'mon, just lie back," she ordered. "Give it a try." She followed her own advice with a sigh. "You see? Relax. Don't worry about anything. Take things easy." 

She smiled. "Like I do." 

* * *

  

When the commset buzzed, Itsuko was at her desk, trying (and failing) to concentrate on some of the paperwork that had been building up. She'd been neglecting her job lately; she'd had other things on her mind. 

"Yes?" she said distractedly. 

"We're on our way now," said a voice. "Five minutes." Then the speaker hung up. 

She stared at the commset remote, trying to work out what the man had been talking about. Then she remembered, and groaned. Five minutes? All right. She finished skimming through the page at the top of her pile, and scrawled a few notes on it. Then, pushing the entire pile to one side, she got up and headed out. On the way she took a quick glance around the suite, checking that everything looked tidy. It wasn't that she was house-proud. She was just…nervous about guests. 

Downstairs at the reception desk, she was startled to see that Ochiyo was on duty. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was after four. Where had the afternoon gone? 

"Hi, Itsuko-san," said Ochiyo, smiling. "Looks like a quiet day." 

Itsuko blinked. Quiet, after everything that had happened that morning? _Oh._ Quiet here in the gymnasium, anyway. "It happens," she shrugged. She studied the girl, noting with a little surprise the large bunch of flowers on the desk in front of her. "Are you all right?" she asked. "After this morning, I mean." 

"Oh, I'm fine," Ochiyo said happily. "Actually, it was kind of cool. Well, not at the time, obviously. But—" 

"I know," said Itsuko wryly. What on earth was the girl so happy about? She eyed the flowers again, and suddenly realised. "Oho. From your boyfriend?" Ochiyo nodded, beaming, and Itsuko laughed. "Not bad," she said. "What's his name?" 

"I don't know," Ochiyo told her. Then she grinned. "Yet," she added. 

Itsuko shook her head, still laughing. Flowers from a secret admirer; that was all it took to make the girl forget what could have been a highly traumatic experience. _Was I ever like that?_ She tried to remember how she'd felt when she was that young. _Maybe I was._

She heard footsteps and looked around. Jiro was coming up the steps, followed by a pair of other men. They were all carrying equipment bags. Itsuko breathed a sigh of relief. This could actually work. 

Jiro came forward, his hand outstretched, pushing past a client who was just leaving. "Itsuko-chan!" he exclaimed. "To see your face again!" 

She smiled, taking his hand. "It's been a long time, Jiro." Inwardly, she cringed. Did he have to be so familiar, right there in front of Ochiyo? All the other staff were going to hear about this within the hour. Her hard-nosed reputation was shot. 

He took another look at her, and she saw his eyebrows go up. "You looking real good, lady," he said, almost in wonder. "Good as the day we met." 

She winked. "Clean living," she told him. 

Hmm. That could be a problem—as if she needed more problems. It had been twenty years since they'd last met. Jiro had put on weight; his face was lined, and his hair and eyebrows were greying. Itsuko hadn't changed at all. 

"Glad you could drop by," she said, masking her worry. "Let's head on up." She indicated the stairs. Jiro nodded, his smile fading slightly, and he and the other two followed her up the stairs. 

Inside her rooms she hesitated, not sure what to do next. Jiro held a finger to his lips and glanced at one of his men. The man pulled a small grey box out of his jacket and flicked a switch on the side. She heard a faint, crackling hiss. The man nodded shortly. 

Jiro relaxed. "Okay, it's safe to talk," he said. "There's another team outside. Posing as an electrical crew, you know? Doing work on the wiring. They're making some interference, so your eavesdroppers, they don' know what's going on." He gestured to his two men. "All right, get started. We can' keep this up more than a half hour, maybe." 

They began pulling equipment out of their bags. Jiro asked, "Is it just the office, you think, or maybe everywhere?" 

She shrugged. "I don't know. It—it could be everywhere." It was unpleasant to have to admit it; but she could not take the risk. The only place she was sure about was her secret room, where the sacred fire burned. 

Jiro only nodded. "No problem. What about downstairs? There too? Not so easy to check, down there." 

Another shrug. "Maybe. I'll chance that, though." She gave a small smile. "After all, if there's anything secret going on down in the gym, it's none of my doing." 

"I believe it," he said. He gave her a long, thoughtful gaze. "I think you got plenty enough secrets right up here."

- - -

"We've got trouble," Kuroi said as he stepped into the van, closing the door behind him. 

"Imagine my joy," said Hiiro laconically. "What now?" 

"Have we got a camera over the main entrance?" 

"You know perfectly well we have." Hiiro looked at him quizzically. "What's got you so upset?" 

"Check back in the logs. About five minutes ago, a group of three men walking into the building." 

"By your command," Hiiro said, with just a touch of irony. He looked back at Mitsukai's work-desk. She was hunched over one of the receiver units, manipulating the controls with an intent look on her face. "Mitsukai, take a look, will you?" 

She sighed, and turned her attention to a console to one side. Watching her, Kuroi said, "Problems?" 

"Interference. There's a crew working on the power lines a couple of blocks away. Whatever they're doing, they're kicking up a lot of static. We're not getting much out of the bugs." 

"Should have used the longer-range units." 

"They're too visible. I send Kitada over to take a quiet look at what the repair boys're doing. They shouldn't be too much longer." 

"Okay." For once, Kuroi didn't have anything bad to say about Masao. Truth to tell, for an Irregular the young man was working out pretty well. "Bad timing," Kuroi said at last. "You'll see what I mean in a moment." 

They headed back to Mitsukai's console. She was rapid-scanning back through the camera logs. As they watched, she brought up a picture of three men entering the Olympus building: a bulky, middle-aged man followed by two others, younger and fitter-looking. 

"Try and get the faces of the two in the back," Kuroi ordered. Mitsukai searched forward a moment longer, and found another shot of the three. "There," Kuroi said, pointing to one of them. "The one on the left. Okuda Jiro." 

Hiiro studied his face. "What about him?" he said. 

"He's Sankaku." 

Hiiro sat bolt-upright, staring at Kuroi. Even Mitsukai looked shocked. "You sure?" Hiiro asked after a moment. 

"Ninety-five percent. Ninety-nine." 

"Shit." Hiiro rubbed his forehead. "This doesn't make sense. Why would the Sankaku clans be involved in this?" He glanced up at Kuroi. "Ryozo, how—?" 

"How do you think? I've seen him before. Ran into him on a job, three, four years ago. He got away, but I remember the face." 

"Could just be a coincidence?" 

"Not a chance. I saw the three of them go in and walk straight up to Pappadopoulos. She looked real friendly with Okuda." 

"Damn. And right when we can't hear a thing from inside." 

"I said it was bad timing." 

"All right. We don't want to fly off the handle, though. It could be some kind of sting, or even a protection racket…not our business." Hiiro paused, thinking hard. "Ryozo, get out there. Find Kitada, tell him to try and hurry the damn power crew up. Then get back and cover the entrance. Find out where those three go when they leave. Mitsukai…when's Aoiro due back in?" 

"Six hours," she said. "He's on down-shift." 

"Too bad. Wake him up and bring him in. Then get back on that receiver. Even if you can only make out a word or two…" 

"Right."

- - -

"So exactly what are they doing?" asked Itsuko, watching Jiro's men at work. 

Jiro grinned, looking rather proud. "We found twelve bugs. Your burglar, he was pretty heavy-handed. Now, we fix them so they only send what we want them to send." 

"How?" 

His grin widened as he pulled out a slim box from his bag. "I leave you this," he told her. "Very smart little machine. I got samples of your voice fed in here. When you switch it on, it overrides the bugs, sends out a nice little conversation in your voice—all random, not a tape. Clever computer program, you can listen for hours an' not guess it's a fake." 

Itsuko had to grin in reply; his enthusiasm was infectious. "But won't someone get suspicious if I keep talking all night?" 

"No, no. You only turn it on when you don' want anyone to hear. Most of the time, it stays off, an' they hear what you say for real. It's much safer that way." 

"I suppose so." But a sudden thought struck her, and she shot him a suspicious glance. "Just where did you get samples of my voice?" 

He burst out laughing. "On the comm, this morning! A little fuzzy, a little tinny, sure, but we don' need great sound quality for this. Those bugs—they're short range, low-power. At the other end, they sound like a commset anyway." 

"Huh," she said, mollified. "Short-range, you say?" A rather predatory look appeared on her face. "Any chance you can find out where they're transmitting to?" 

"Sorry, no," he said regretfully. "Could be anywhere within two, maybe three blocks. Doesn't sound like much, but it's a lot of territory." 

"Pity," Itsuko said, just as regretfully. 

"I could have some of my people search, but I got to tell you, it's just as likely they'd be spotted first. Then you'd really be in trouble." 

Itsuko thought about it. "Don't worry about it," she said after a moment. The predatory look was back. "I know some people who can look around. They're _very_ discreet." 

There was, after all, no-one as discreet as a cat. Artemis was out of the question—they'd spot him in a moment—but his great-granddaughter would be perfect…once he finally found her. Bendis could snoop around and spy on the spies without the slightest danger of discovery. Nobody out there would be looking for a tabby cat with a full-moon mark. 

It didn't take much longer for Jiro's men to finish up. Jiro himself installed the controller box, and went over how to use it with Itsuko. When they were all done Itsuko checked her watch: twenty-two minutes. Impressive, she thought, and told Jiro so. He winked. 

"We got to go," he said. "The jamming will end soon, an' we don' want to get you into any more trouble, eh? You take care of yourself, pretty lady." 

He took her hand, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss it. But he simply gave her one more wondering look. "Whatever your beauty secret is, you should sell it," he told her. "Forget this place. You could make millions, easy." 

She laughed, and saw the three out of the building. Her smile faded as she watched him go. It saddened her to realise that she was never going to be able to see Jiro again. But he'd noticed that she hadn't aged. And that meant that he, too, could be a danger. 

* * *

  

"It'll be all right," Miyo said as they walked up to the door. "Miliko's got a netball practice, so she won't in the way." 

"What about your brothers?" asked Dhiti. She'd visited Miyo's house before; she knew what to expect. 

"They won't get in the way either." Miyo grinned suddenly. "Not if they know what's good for them." 

The front door opened, to reveal Ichiyo and Fujimaro standing there in the hall, apparently on their way out. Miyo froze. "Uh—" 

Her brothers exchanged meaningful glances. "Do we know what's good for us?" asked Ichiyo solemnly. 

"Depends," said Fujimaro. "Is she in a bad mood?" 

"Let me check." Ichiyo reached out and poked Miyo on the shoulder. Miyo glared at him and swatted his hand away. "No broken bones," he announced. "About middling, I'd say." 

"Hmm." Fujimaro pulled out a coin and prepared to toss it. "Heads we run for it, tails we sit on her," he suggested. 

"Tails," Ichiyo said without hesitation. 

"Right." The coin flipped up into the air, spinning over and over— 

Miyo caught it before it landed in Fujimaro's hand. "Allow me," she told him coldly, and inspected the coin. "What do you know," she said a moment later, giving the two a withering look. "Both sides are tails." 

"I am shocked, deeply shocked—" began Ichiyo. 

She snorted. "You probably lent him the coin," she said. 

"You wound me," he said, contriving to look sad. "That my own sister could be so distrustful…you bring dishonour upon the family name—" 

"Dishonour!" she yelped. "Who was the one who put slugs in my bed last night! _Dishonour_! I'd like to maroon the pair of you on Io, then we'd see who was dishonoured—" 

Dhiti cleared her throat loudly, and she stopped. 

Diffidently, Fujimaro said, "Actually, that was Miliko with the slugs. Word of honour." 

Ichiyo said, "Io?" 

"Sensei was talking about it in science class," said Dhiti quickly. "One of the moons of Jupiter. Lots of volcanos. Very nasty." Miyo shot her a grateful look. 

"My, my," Ichiyo said gravely. "You're getting creative, sis. Maybe something's rubbing off from Sharma-chan." Dhiti stirred; but before she could say anything he added, with a faint grin, "Or should that be, from Wright-kun?" 

Miyo gaped at him. "Where'd you hear about—" she began. He laughed, grabbed Fujimaro by the arm, and slipped nimbly past her out of the house. Just in time; Miyo almost managed to grab him as he went past. The two's laughter trailed behind them as they headed down the path and around a corner. 

Miyo snorted. "Brothers," she said. 

"Sure had you dead to rights, didn't they?" said Dhiti innocently. 

"They did not! They—" Miyo stopped, and sighed. "Brothers," she repeated, with a little more force. 

Dhiti snickered. "Have you actually been to Io?" she asked curiously as they stepped inside. 

"What? No. There's a—there _was_ a research station there, but that's all. The environment was too hostile. The Miranda Institute was talking about another terraforming attempt when…" She trailed off. "Well, you know. When." 

Dhiti nodded. She'd been about to make a rather clever remark about volcanos and Miyo's temper, but she didn't. The mood was spoiled. 

It always seemed to come down to that for Miyo, eventually: what had been lost. She was so wrapped up in the _when_. Why couldn't she open her eyes and see the _now_? 

That was a clever remark, too. Pity it was true. 

She followed Miyo through the living room, where Miyo's father was sitting, reading the newspaper, and into the room Miyo shared with her sister. Artemis was waiting for them.

- - -

Hayashi Hitomaru glanced up and smiled as the two girls went past. When they were out of earshot, he stood and went through to the kitchen, where his wife was busy getting the dinner started. He couldn't quite restrain himself from checking what she was doing—remembering a certain episode four days before when his daughter had been cooking—but managed to glance away before she caught him doing it. 

"You look serious," Aki said tentatively. 

"Miyo just got home," he told her. "She…" He hesitated. 

Aki sighed. "Again?" 

"Again," Hitomaru confirmed. "She was giving some wild talk about the moons of Jupiter. Her friend was encouraging her, I think." 

"That would be Dhiti-chan. Yes, she would." She thought about it, her hands working steadily at the food. "Have you considered speaking to someone at the school?" 

"Yes, but what can I say? My daughter is acting strangely, and talking nonsense all the time, and recently she cooked slugs for her family and didn't even notice until afterward?" 

"I'm sure it's just a phase she's going through." Aki's face said that she wasn't sure at all. 

"Let's hope so," Hitomaru answered. Reluctantly, he added, "Sometimes, it's as if she's…someone else."

- - -

"Nice of you to show up," said Artemis. 

"Oh, don't be silly," said Miyo cheerfully. The argument with her brothers had left her in a surprisingly good mood. It was nice to see some things never changed. "School only let out a little while ago." 

She found a chair, dumped a pile of Miliko's stuffed toys off it, and offered it to Dhiti, who looked rather glum for some reason. Sitting down on her bed, she said, "So…our first Senshi meeting." She chuckled. "Not quite as big as I remember them." 

"I wouldn't worry too much," Artemis said dryly. "Judging by previous experience, that'll improve fairly quickly." 

"Wait a minute. Shouldn't we be waiting for Sailor Venus to arrive?" put in Dhiti. 

Miyo and Artemis exchanged glances. "Go ahead," said Miyo, slightly vindictively. "Tell her." 

"Er…Venus won't be coming," said Artemis. "She's operating independently for the moment, with my great-granddaughter." 

Dhiti wrinkled her brow. "Why?" 

"This should be good," said Miyo. 

"That's, ahh…a little complicated." Artemis sounded oddly nervous. "Bendis and I have been searching for you Senshi independently, you see. We'll be putting the two groups together later." 

Dhiti thought about this. Then she looked over at Miyo. "Does that make any sense to you?" 

Miyo grinned. "Nope." 

"Good. I was afraid it was just me." 

"I was thinking of withholding his cat food until he gives us a straight answer," Miyo confided. "Or making him go back to that stuff Mom bought." 

"Hey!" Artemis protested. "You can't do that! You promised!" 

Dhiti laughed. "Maybe I can come up with some…interesting ideas," she suggested. 

"You can't team up on me like this! Show some respect! I'm thousands of years older than you are!" 

"What?" said Miyo with a hoot. "More like thirty or forty years, isn't it?" 

Artemis had to stop and try to remember. "Well…if you count from your first birth, sure," he admitted. "But remember, you've had two gaps where you were, well, technically dead. Those shouldn't count." 

"Shouldn't count?" said Miyo, laughing. "Shouldn't _count_?" 

"I—" Artemis looked over at Dhiti. "Well, I'm thousands of years older than _her_, anyway! So _she_ shouldn't pick on me!" 

"Gee, and you don't look a day over nine hundred," Dhiti said sarcastically. She looked over at Miyo. "Hayashi, are Senshi meetings always like this? I mean, well, just sitting around and yakking?" 

Miyo thought about it. "Pretty much," she admitted. 

"Well, we did use to do _some_ other things," pointed out Artemis. 

"Yeah, when we could persuade Usagi to stop eating, or leave Rei's manga collection alone. Come on, Artemis, you know what she was like—" 

"This is 'Queen Serenity' Usagi you're talking about?" inquired Dhiti. Her eyes were sparkling. 

"Uh…well, she did get a lot more serious later on—" 

"She could be serious enough right from the start, when she had to be," Artemis said, dropping his bantering tone suddenly. "When those she loved were threatened." He caught Miyo's eye; after a moment she nodded, sobered. "And speaking of threats," the cat continued, "I'm afraid we do have some serious business today." 

"The monster last night," Miyo said, nodding once more. 

"Right," said Dhiti. "I was wondering if we were going to get to that. I mean, I'm sure it was nothing special to you guys…being thousands of years older than me, and all that…" 

Miyo cleared her throat, looking slightly embarrassed. 

"What do you call those things, anyway? I mean, I recognised it from the description, but none of the books ever gave them a name." 

"Excuse me?" said Artemis. "You recognised it?" 

"What? Didn't you?" Dhiti frowned. "I was assuming it was one of the monsters that destroyed Crystal Tokyo. They were supposed to be big, crystalline things, weren't they?" 

Miyo and Artemis exchanged glances. "No," Artemis said definitely. "No, not the same." Then he added thoughtfully, "But…there were similarities, now I think about it." 

"It acted quite differently, and it looked a lot too…human," said Miyo. "But…" She shook her head. "Something to keep in mind. Thanks, Dhiti-chan." 

"Hey, I've got a brain, you know. Besides my gorgeous looks, I mean." 

"Yes, well," said Artemis hastily before Miyo could reply. "If one of those things shows up again, hopefully you'll be able to do some kind of analysis on it." 

"Analysis?" Dhiti looked confused. "How? With that?" 

"With this." Artemis jumped up onto Miyo's dresser and indicated an object that was lying there. "The Mercury computer. I got it out of storage this afternoon. And there are communicators for both of you, as well." 

"Ah! Now that sounds familiar," said Miyo, picking up her communicator. It had been redesigned slightly, she noticed, to fit in with modern styles; but it still basically looked like a wristwatch. It doubled as one, too; though she remembered that hers had always gained five minutes a week, for some reason. 

Dhiti was looking at the computer dubiously, turning it over and over. It looked absurdly small in her hands. "What does it do?" she asked. "How does it work?" 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it," Miyo said airily. Truth to tell, she'd never been able to make head or tail of it herself; but Ami had managed easily enough. "Hey, what's this third communicator?" 

"Oh, that's for Venus," said Artemis casually. A little too casually. "Could you give it to her, the next time you see her?" 

"Eh?" said Dhiti, distracted from her computer. "Why can't your granddaughter give it to her? Er, Bendis, was it?" 

"It's better this way," Artemis told her unhelpfully. Then, as if eager to change the subject, he went on, "Oh, and another thing. Could both of you give some thought to finding a better place to meet? Here was all right for today, but we can't rely on meeting here regularly." 

"Not with Miliko getting in the way," Miyo added, nodding. 

"Somewhere with a bit of privacy, anyway. I did have somewhere in mind, but—" He hesitated for a moment. "Well, it's difficult at the moment. In any case, if either of you have any ideas…and we'll need to find somewhere to hold training sessions, as well. Makoto, you need to get back into practice with your Supreme Thunder, and Dhiti-san, we'll need to get you up to speed as soon as possible, too." 

"Are you expecting more of those things?" asked Dhiti. 

Artemis looked grim. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised." 

* * *

  

Lieutenant Midori arrived at 'S' Division headquarters at seven o'clock sharp the next morning, exactly as usual. He pulled up the day's agenda, ran through it quickly, made a few notes, and transmitted it to Colonel Shiro's desk. Exactly as usual. 

Then, most unusually, he sat at his desk, staring off into mid-air for several minutes. He should have been going over last night's logs, preparing a summary. That was his job, as Shiro's ADC. But something was bothering him. 

At last, almost mechanically, he accessed the security system and pulled up the building entry and exit records. He stared at them for a while longer, puzzled. He knew what he was looking for; but the idea was preposterous. And yet… 

And yet, he found himself scanning through the list methodically. He was looking for intruders. Intruders, here in 'S' Division headquarters! It _was_ ridiculous. The security here was superb. Nobody could possibly break in. But— 

But he could not leave it alone. Something inside him, some inner voice, drove him. Sometimes he even thought he could see the intruder in his mind's eye. A…woman? Tall and slender, and…tall…and the face, it…swam in him memory for a moment, elusive, and then flickered away again…and… 

(green hair?) 

…and he could _not_ remember! He slammed his fist down on the desk, hard, in frustration. Sometimes he thought he was losing his mind. Sometimes he thought he recalled searching the entry records yesterday, too, and the day before, feverishly intent…but that could be crazy, wouldn't it? Surely he'd remember? He'd remember, just as…as… 

He blinked suddenly. What the hell was he doing, staring at nothing, when he was supposed to be finishing off Shiro's morning report? He glanced at his terminal, and his brow furrowed. Entry logs? What was he looking at those for? He shook his head impatiently, and reached out to clear the display— 

A name on the list leaped out at him. A name he recognised. 

He frowned again. What the hell was…? He tapped on the screen and brought up a more detailed display. Entry date and time…exit date and time…Now that _was_ odd. What was going on here? He hesitated for a second, then got up. He thought he might check this personally. 

He caught the elevator down to the records floor, three levels underground. Through two separate security checkpoints, and into the central filing office. There should have been nobody here, at this hour, but one of the terminals was busy. He recognised the person sitting in front of it. 

"Mitsukai-chan," he said. "What _are_ you doing here?" 

She glanced up for a fraction of a second. "Checking records," she said tersely. 

"No, really?" He began to smile. "The logs say you've been here since yesterday afternoon. What's Hiiro got you working on this time?" 

With a sigh, she sat back from the terminal. "Go away, Midori-san," she told him. "I'm busy." 

"You're always busy." Midori's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't be in here at HQ if Hiiro didn't think he wasn't onto something big. But he hasn't filed a report on it, so he's playing it close to his chest…as usual." His tone became acid for a moment. "So what is it?" 

"Midori-san—" she began. But at that moment, the door to the record stacks burst open and a man Midori didn't recognise came in, staggering under the weight of two large boxes of paper files. 

"Got them," the man panted, putting the boxes down with a gasp. He wiped his brow, looked up at Mitsukai, and caught sight of Midori. "Who are you?" he asked. 

"Midori," said Midori crisply. The man looked tired. Had he been here all night, too? "And you are…? No, let me see some ID, please." 

The man rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a card. "Midori-san?" he said, sounding puzzled. Then he laughed. "Now I remember! You're my uncle Tomiji!" 

"I'm your—?" Midori stared at the card. _Kitada Masao?_ Then he, too, remembered. He grinned. "Well, well. Still with us, then, Kitada-san?" 

"Sure…no thanks to you." 

"Now, now." Midori thought back. Yes, perhaps he _had_ given the man a hard time. "I told you it could be a couple of weeks or more." 

Kitada snorted. "Quite a lot you _didn't_ tell me, though, wasn't there?" 

"Think of it as on-the-job training," Midori told him. "And speaking of jobs…what have you two been doing down here all night?" 

Kitada glanced at Mitsukai. (Midori nodded to himself. Kitada seemed to be becoming part of the team. Just as well, if his mission was going to be an extended one.) After a few seconds, Mitsukai sighed, and nodded. 

"We're looking up backgrounds, property records, anything we can, on a place called the Olympus Gymnasium," Kitada said. "Captain Aoiro is over at the 'I' Division offices, searching the records there." 

Belatedly, Midori noticed the other boxes of documents that were piled up around the walls of the room. Kitada and Mitsukai had been at work for some time, all right. The filing staff were going to want to kill them. He raised his eyebrows, amused. "An old building, I take it?" he asked. Otherwise all the records would have been in electronic form. 

Then, suddenly, he remembered where he'd heard of the Olympus. And what Kitada had been activated for. 

"Wait a minute!" he burst out. "You're on that lost-cat case! What on earth are you still working on that for, after two weeks! And why do you have to check _property_ records, of all things?" 

"The lost cat?" Kitada said. "Right. I'd almost forgotten about that. No, Captain Hiiro wants us to look into connections with the Sankaku clans." 

"Sankaku!" Midori stared, his full attention suddenly focused on Kitada. "What would the clans be doing with—no, never mind. Let me give you a hand there…" 

He grabbed one of the boxes Kitada had brought in. "Olympus Gymnasium, you said? What date range are you looking for?" he asked Mitsukai. She told him, and he began to leaf through papers. Kitada started on the other box. "Why hasn't Hiiro reported it, if there's a Sankaku link?" Midori demanded as he worked. 

"The connection is unproven," Mitsukai said softly. She had turned back to her terminal, and was working away there once more. 

"Some people came to visit the owner yesterday," Kitada said helpfully. "Captain Kuroi recognised one of them as Sankaku." 

"Pretty brazen of them. Typical. And as usual, I suppose Hiiro wants everything wrapped up neatly before he lets headquarters take a sniff? That figures." 

He heard Mitsukai sigh, but of course she did not answer him. That wasn't surprising. He'd known her for a long time, and she almost never spoke when she could help it. She simply wasn't interested in people; it was data, words on paper, and by extension in computers, that she related to. She'd started in 'S' Division in the records section, and it had been a sad day for them when she'd left; but she'd helped Hiiro break a major case, a couple of years ago, and he pulled her out into field work. Unexpectedly, she seemed to be working out pretty well in Hiiro's team; the man did know how to handle his people. Of course, he had an advantage, though he probably didn't know it— 

"Hello," he said, flipping through a sheaf of papers, loosely clipped together, that had been buried half-way down the box. "This looks interesting." 

"What?" Kitada leaned over his shoulder. 

"A copy of a property transfer record." He frowned at it. "There's almost nothing here. Lots of legal gibberish…financial statements…receiver name of Pappadopoulos Itsuko." He stumbled over the name. "There's a file number," he added, turning to the last page. "Mitsukai- chan, you should be able to look that up." He read the number out. 

"Right," Mitsukai said, typing it in. The response flashed up almost immediately. "That's better," she said, sounding pleased. 

"We tried this already, yesterday afternoon," Kitada told Midori. "But we only got a not-found indicator. What was that filing number again?" Midori read it out once more. "Right. Two of the digits have been transposed. That's why the computer couldn't find it." He stared at the page for a moment longer. "She's owned the building since 4179?" he muttered. "Boy, she's older than she looks." 

"Never mind that," Midori said impatiently. "Let's see what you were looking for." Now it was their turn to look over Mitsukai's shoulder as she paged through the data. 

"Oho," said Mitsukai suddenly, halting the scroll. 

"What?" said Midori. He read a few lines, and then laughed suddenly and said "Oho" himself. 

"What?" said Kitada plaintively. 

"It looks like it could have been a false alarm," Midori said. "It seems that Pap—er, Pappadopoulos bought the building from the Hoseki Property Group." 

"Yes, and?" said Kitada patiently. 

"Oh. Sorry. Well, they're owned by one of the Sankaku clans, all right. But they're mostly legitimate. Occasionally some very minor money-laundering operations, no more. We keep an eye on them, but that's about all." 

"So," Kitada said slowly, "her contact with them may be perfectly innocent?" 

"Could be," Midori agreed. "Of course, it's odd that they'd come calling on her eleven years after she bought the building—" 

"No," said Mitsukai. "She had a break-in last night." 

"So? Oh! And—" Midori pointed to the screen again. "There. Her security contract is through Hoseki. So she calls them, and they send around—" He blinked. "A break-in? It wasn't you, was it?" 

"Er, no," said Kitada, flushing. "It was Captain Aoiro, actually." 

Midori laughed. "Sounds like one of Hiiro's operations all right," he said. "Well, I expect you can probably relax again now. Though I suppose Hiiro will—" 

His comm chimed suddenly. He looked down at it, puzzled, then glanced at his watch…and squawked, realising the time. "I've got to head back upstairs," he told them hastily, heading for the door. "Good luck with your, er, lost cat." 

"Hey!" shouted Kitada after him. "What are we looking for the damn cat _for_, anyway?" 

Midori paused for a moment, looking back. "If you ever find out," he said fervently, thinking of all the effort and money that had been poured into the search over the last weeks, "I'd be most grateful if you'd tell me." 

Then he closed the door behind him and sprinted for the lift. Colonel Shiro was not going to be pleased with him.

- - -

Masao pulled out his own comm and called Hiiro. "We found the records, sir," he said. "Apparently Pappadopoulos-san bought the building from the, um, Hoseki Property Group—" 

"Damn," said Hiiro's voice. "Another friggin' red herring." 

"Er, apparently," Masao said, a little uncertainly. "Lieutenant Midori said her security contract is with them, so the meeting was probably—" 

"Midori? Why the hell was he butting into my case—?" Hiiro sighed. "No, never mind, it doesn't matter. He's right. It was probably a coincidence. Oh, we'll still keep an eye on Pappa-san, just in case, because I don't trust coincidences—not ones this big—and I'll get some extra coverage put on Hoseki. But I think we can relax, for now. You and Mitsukai can go and get some sleep, Kitada. Well done." 

"Um. Thank you." _Pappa-san?_ Masao thought, and stifled a chuckle. 

"I'm getting a little suspicious of that girl, Aizawa Ochiyo. She was in a position to have put that lost-pet poster up, and it disappeared pretty quickly after you asked her about it. And Aoiro was right, last night; she could be the one Artemis is interested in. I want you to start checking up on her tomorrow." 

"Yes, sir." Masao hesitated, then said, "Sir? I asked Lieutenant Midori about the lost-cat search. He doesn't know why we're doing it either." 

"Doesn't surprise me. This order came from pretty high up, I think." 

"Right." Masao closed the connection, frowning. It had only been two weeks, but he'd already learned that those orders were usually the worst ones.

- - -

Midori rode up in the elevator, trying to think of a good excuse to give Colonel Shiro. He was already half an hour late for the morning briefing. It wasn't going to look good. 

Still, it had _felt_ good to actually get his hands on some case-work, for a change. He smiled. He'd been stuck in headquarters for entirely too long. Maybe he should request a transfer. 

As he thought about poring through the records again, for some reason he had a sudden memory of— 

(a tall woman with green hair) 

—He shook his head. It didn't make any sense. He'd never met anyone like that. Had he? 

* * *

  

Several days passed. After the excitement of Monday night, it was almost a let-down. There were times when Dhiti could almost believe that it had been a dream. But she had her communicator; that was real (though as a watch, it seemed to run a little fast). And she had her henshin wand. 

Oh, and she had the computer. That thrice-damned computer. She had never cared for the things much; they made her nervous. But this one seemed as though it were deliberately out to get her. 

It was a bewildering machine to start with. When she finally dared turn it on (it started instantly, without any long boot-up sequence), she was presented with a positively daunting array of screens, windows, icons, displays, menus, and little moving things that she had no name for. There was a keyboard, but the keys were tiny and laid out in a strange order, and some of them had symbols she didn't recognise. There was a device that she eventually worked out she could use as a cursor; but sometimes it did other things as well, and she could not predict when it would behave one way and when another. Nothing worked the way she expected. Nothing seemed to make any sense at all. 

(On Wednesday night, in despair, she called Miyo and got her to ask Artemis if there was a manual for the thing. Miyo said Artemis had just laughed.) 

—She made some progress, eventually. After two days, she accidentally discovered that the screen was touch-sensitive, and suddenly a whole range of things started to make a dim kind of sense. She found that she could, slowly and hesitantly, find her way around the system. She was on top of it at last, she thought triumphantly. Then it pulled another fast one on her. Just when she was beginning to feel confident that she could find something, it _changed_—suddenly the displays were laid out differently, and doing the same set of actions produced completely different results. She had to start out from scratch, all over again. At least it didn't take her as long this time; but the changes kept happening, apparently at random. On Friday night, after she discovered how to access the sensory and analysis routines, she practised starting them up several times over, remembering Artemis' comments about analysing the crystalline monster. But the fifth time she tried to launch them, they weren't there any more. She eventually found them again, in a completely different location. After another three attempts, they shifted again. It was maddening. 

On Saturday morning she woke up—after a totally inadequate night's sleep—with a sudden inspiration. There _was_ a system to the changes. The machine was _learning_. Or trying to, at any rate. It was shifting options around to try and make them more convenient for her. And when she continued to try and find them the old way, both of them were getting confused… 

She tried it out and it worked. Gradually, things started to make sense. And just as gradually, she began to feel a little grudging respect for whoever had programmed it. The damn machine was an intelligence test. Non-geniuses need not apply. 

Fortunately her self-image had always been very high. 

She couldn't stop grinning when she got to school that morning. (Kin and Miyo teased her about it unmercifully, and she was in such a good mood that she almost forgot to make some cutting remarks in return.) Then she fell asleep in class, got woken up by the sensei, and was brought back to reality in a hurry. Thank goodness Saturday was only a half-day. 

When she got home, she looked at the computer and decided the hell with it. She needed an afternoon off.

- - -

She wandered cheerfully down the street. Her mother had announced that she was going shopping, and on impulse Dhiti had decided to go along. She wasn't planning on buying anything, but a little window-shopping never hurt anybody, and she felt she needed to get out of the house. 

Stopping in front a music shop, she peered through the window thoughtfully. The trumpet lessons a few months ago had been a dead loss; it seemed to take forever to develop an embouchure and she didn't have the patience. But she did want to be able to play something. She wondered how long it took to pick up the flute. That didn't look too hard. 

On impulse, she opened the shop door and started to step inside— 

Not far away, somebody screamed. 

Dhiti looked around, startled. A woman was running out of a nearby shop. She looked terrified. Somebody holding the place up? She heard a crashing sound, then the sound of glass shattering. More people ran out of the shop. What was going on? 

Then she heard a roar, and finally realised that this might be a job for…well, for her. 

The street was quiet; not too many people around. Good. She went to take a cautious glance through the shop window—and was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. 

"Stay back!" her mother hissed. "Come away! You don't know what's happening in there!" 

"That's what I wanted to find out," she protested. She was interrupted by more shouts, and a long, tinkling, smashing sound. "Um, maybe not. Maybe we should get out of here…" 

"That," her mother said mildly, "sounds like a better idea." They made their way away from the shop in some haste. So were most other people, Dhiti noticed. That would help. 

When they reached the corner, her mother stopped to look back. Dhiti managed to slip away. She felt a twinge of guilt—her mother would be worried—but she had a feeling that this was more important. 

There was an alleyway that ran down behind the row of shops. She ducked into it and headed back toward the ruckus. When she reached the place that all the noise was coming from, she tried the rear door cautiously. It opened and she slipped inside. 

She found herself in a small room at the rear, curtained off from the main body of the shop. She lifted a corner of the curtain and peeped around it. 

She almost laughed involuntarily. 

It was a dressmaker's shop, and two woman were being chased around and around the central display by what appeared to be an enormous animated dressmaker's dummy. It would have been hysterical if they hadn't looked so terrified. There was a third woman, ducked down behind a row of bolts of cloth, watching; but she seemed safe enough for now. Dhiti tried to work out what to do. Should she call for help, or…? 

As she watched, one of the women being chased snatched up a pair of scissors and threw them at the dummy. They bounced off its padded torso with a ringing sound, and the dummy roared in reply. 

—Wait a minute. What kind of padding made a ringing sound when you hit it? That dummy wasn't padded at all; it must be as hard as— 

She opened her communicator and called Miyo.

- - -

The third woman in the shop, the one crouched down watching the action, was getting bored. This wasn't working at all. She'd known it was a bad idea from the start, but she'd had no choice but to obey. 

She sighed, watching the dummy swipe at one of the other women and miss. This wasn't just a bad idea; it was silly. She'd give it another five minutes, then give up and leave. The hell with her orders. 

Then the curtain at the rear of the shop opened, and a Senshi leaped through. Number Twelve sat up sharply. _Well, what do you know? It worked._

- - -

"I am the miraculous Sailor Mercury," she declaimed, enjoying herself immensely. "And on behalf of the eponymous orb, I will discombobulate you!" 

The women being chased stopped to stare at her. No reaction from the dummy, though. Bother. She'd hoped she'd at least confuse it. Instead it turned and started toward her. _Uh-oh, that's not so good._

Never mind. This thing was much smaller than the monster last Tuesday. It should be a snap. She raised her hands, took aim, and shouted, "ICE SPEAR!" 

The bolt took it squarely in the middle of its chest, and shattered in a blinding cloud of ice crystals. When the cloud cleared away— 

The thing was still coming, apparently undamaged, and was only a couple of metres away. She yelped, ducked under its swing, and rolled. The dummy's fist struck the wall and went straight through. Hey, that was a brick wall! All right, maybe she'd underestimated it a little. 

"Get out of here!" she shouted to the other women, who were still standing around gawking. She saw them start to move, and directed all her attention back to the dummy. 

_Go for the third eye. That worked last time._ Always nice to have a system. She took aim, and— 

This thing didn't _have_ a third eye! It didn't even have a face, actually. It occurred to Mercury that she might just be in a bit of trouble here. Still, didn't she specialise in getting into trouble? She ducked another swing. All right, make that a _lot_ of trouble. 

She tried the Ice Spear again, hoping to at least throw it off-balance. No luck. Surely it must have a weak point somewhere? It was fast, but not too agile. How much weight was there behind those blows? _Damn, that computer might be useful after all…if I had time to use it._

She ducked past it, and tried kicking it. That actually rocked it, surprising her. _How strong am I, anyway?_ But her foot felt as if she'd kicked a brick wall. 

She leaped back, putting a little space between her and the dummy. _What do I do now? The Ice Spear won't touch it!_ She'd been able to punch holes in the other monster. This one seemed immune. 

She let it chase her around the shop for a while, trying to think. It was irritatingly difficult to try to plan under this kind of pressure, she found. Let's see: it didn't seem too smart and all it did was come after her and try to hit her. What good did that do, though? If her attack didn't affect it…hmm. 

She picked up a bolt of cloth and threw it at the thing's legs. It tripped up very nicely and hit the floor with a thunderous crash. She stepped closer cautiously as it began to struggle to get up. The floor hadn't broken, so it couldn't be _too_ heavy. She took careful aim, and hit it with a point-blank Ice Spear right in the back of the neck. This time, she was rewarded with a splintering sound, and a tiny crack appeared, looking rather odd in what appeared to be foam padding. _All right! As long as I hit it hard, from real close—_

The dummy lashed out, shockingly fast, as she positioned herself for another shot. The blow caught her in the back of the legs, knocking her flying across the shop. She shouted in surprise and pain. Then she hit the wall, and she could no longer shout. For a few moments, she couldn't even breathe. 

She watched, helpless for the moment, as it awkwardly levered itself upright again. _Scratched it,_ she thought dismally through a mist of pain. _All I did was scratch it._ It was coming toward her, and she couldn't get up. Ice spears, what good were they? What she needed was a weapon, something like a rocket launcher— 

As the dummy raised its arm to strike, a bolt of lightning hit it in the small of the back. 

"Mercury!" shouted Jupiter, jumping to her side. "Are you all right?" 

Mercury tried to grin. "Just dandy, thank you," she gasped. "I was just catching a nap while I waited for you to arrive." 

Jupiter didn't turn a hair, which was annoying. Instead, she helped her up. Mercury was gratified to find that she _could_ stand. What was less gratifying was to see that the dummy could also still stand. Jupiter had knocked it down again, but it was still struggling to rise. 

It was glowing from Jupiter's lightning bolt. Just like the last time. 

"It's fast, but clumsy," Mercury said rapidly. "Very strong. My Ice Spear hardly scratches it." 

Jupiter nodded. "No third eye?" she inquired. Mercury flushed, but shook her head. "Right," Jupiter went on, grinning. "My Supreme Thunder did some damage. Keep back and try to distract it, and I'll see if I can finish it off." 

"Gotcha." Mercury's right arm and leg felt hot and stiff, and her back ached, but at least she could move. She began to circle around, waving her arms and shouting to attract the dummy's attention. 

She succeeded too well, perhaps. The dummy ignored Jupiter completely and made straight for her. She had to duck and roll again to avoid its blows. As she did so, Jupiter hit it again. A roar of thunder; chips of crystal burst out from the impact point of her Supreme Thunder. The dummy rang like a bell. But it continued to ignore Jupiter and advanced toward Mercury, a fist-sized hole gaping in its shoulder. 

_Must be my charm,_ she thought crazily. Charm or not, she was limping, and the pain was slowing her down, and the dummy's blows were getting closer and closer. Brute strength was all the monster seemed to have, but that was starting to look like all it needed. 

She jumped out of the way of another charge, spun to one side, stepped back to allow space for Jupiter to attack again, then ducked, rolled…but she'd misjudged; this time there was only one way to roll, and when she got up again, suddenly there was no way out. 

"Hit it!" she shouted frantically to Jupiter. "Hit it!" 

Jupiter hit it. Sparks flew; crystal splinters flew. And the animated dummy ignored it all and followed Mercury. 

She was caught. She was backed into a corner. The roof was too low to jump over it, and if she tried to get around it she'd get caught in the swathes of fabric. More lightning bolts smashed into the dummy, but as usual it paid no attention. She readied herself for a desperate leap down, between its legs, knowing she'd never make it— 

Somebody shouted. A golden chain of love-hearts settled around the thing's shoulders, and suddenly it was yanked back, and she was free. 

Sailor Venus grunted with effort, yanked again. The dummy lurched back, tottered, and fell once more. Venus released her chain with a gasp and it vanished. 

"Hi," she puffed. "Heard there was a party…thought I'd invite myself in." 

It was a pretty good line, actually. Mercury memorised it for later plagiarism. "Please," she returned, more than a little out of breath herself. "Feel free. Any time." 

"Thanks, I—" Venus stopped suddenly, her eyes flicking to something over Mercury's shoulder. "Is someone else back there?" she said. 

"What?" Mercury looked back toward the rear of the shop. To her astonishment, she saw that the woman who'd been hiding behind the racks of cloth bolts was still there. She had something in her hands, and she was— 

—Taking notes? 

"A newsie," she muttered under her breath. Off to one side, Jupiter had taken up a sentry pose over the fallen dummy, and was methodically blasting it back down whenever it tried to rise. Things looked safe enough, for now. Mercury started back toward the woman. 

"What do you think you're doing there?" she demanded. The woman looked up, startled. She turned pale as she saw Mercury coming toward her, as if she was more afraid of the Senshi than of the monster, which was patently ridiculous— 

"Vitrimorph! Protect me!" she shouted, backing away from Mercury. 

"What?" Mercury began. But at that moment the dummy exploded into action behind her. If it had been moving fast before, now it was like greased lightning. It rolled to one side, knocking Jupiter sprawling, and whirled to its feet, showing none of the clumsiness it had displayed earlier. It hurtled down the shop toward Mercury, who could only stand there, staring at it, transfixed— 

Venus yanked her out of the way just in time. The dummy thundered past her, ignoring her completely, to where the woman was standing. It reached out and, stupefied, Mercury saw it pick the woman up. 

"Get me out of here," the woman snarled. The dummy obeyed instantly; it swung around and bounded out of the shop into the street, carrying her with it. Venus followed it; after a moment, so did Mercury and Jupiter. 

"She was controlling it," said Mercury wonderingly. 

"Yeah." Jupiter looked thoughtful. "You know, I think I've seen her somewhere before…" 

"Where?" 

"I…can't remember." She shook her head. "Never mind that now. If she's controlling that thing, this could be trouble." 

Out in the street, the dummy—the 'vitrimorph'?—set the woman down. She looked back at the three Senshi, and shot them a venomous look. "I'm leaving," she told it. "Kill them all." 

She turned her back and fled. 

"Yep," said Jupiter. "It's trouble." 

The dummy launched itself toward them. 

Mercury and Jupiter snapped off their attacks together. The combined force spun it around, and disintegrated most of one arm. As before, it didn't even seem to notice. It continued on, accelerating—toward Jupiter, this time. But they were outside now, with a lot more room to manoeuvre in. Jupiter leaped high, evaded it—and it turned, instantly, and started for Venus. 

_Did she order it to only attack me, before?_ Mercury wondered. _I wonder how that works…_

And with that thought, finally, she remembered her computer. 

The scanning functions were where she remembered them, thank goodness. She started the scan, and instantly the screen came alive with data: speed readings, mass figures, thermal graphs, tracking and targeting sights (what?), a dozen other displays she couldn't identify. Almost at random, she picked the thermal graphs. An oddly-hued image of the dummy appeared. The colours swam as it moved, darkening, intensifying, swirling like a pot of variegated, boiling goo. And yet… 

There _was_ a point, a single constant spot. A point where all the constantly-shifting patterns came together. A centre around which all the rest moved. It was like…like… 

_Like a third eye,_ she thought. An 'eye' that was right between the shoulder-blades. 

"Jupiter! Venus!" she shouted. "Keep it occupied! I know how to take it down!" 

The other two exchanged glances. Jupiter shrugged. 

"No problem," said Venus. 

Before Mercury's astonished eyes, she crouched down on all fours—head low, hindquarters up—right in the monster's path, and _hissed_ at it. Then she sprang. 

It was a perfect jump, Mercury recognised absently, but there was something eerie about it. It was smooth, graceful…but not quite human. Almost, well…feline. Just what kind of training was Venus getting, anyway? 

_I don't think I could do that if I practised for a hundred years._

Venus came down, head-first, straight for the dummy. At the last moment she shot her hands out, caught it by the shoulders, flipped herself up again, over, and came to a halt…clinging to the dummy's back, her legs wrapped around its waist. She began to buffet its head with both hands. 

The dummy stopped. It seemed confused. Mercury couldn't blame it. It tried to reach back, pluck the girl from off its back…and failed. 

"It can't touch her!" Jupiter whispered. "Its arms don't reach back far enough!" 

It could have reached her legs, where they circled its waist, but it didn't even try. Perhaps it wasn't that smart, Mercury thought vaguely. Or did it even have a brain at all? Was it alive? 

"Better hurry," Venus called, her voice tight with strain. The dummy was thrashing around, trying to dislodge her, and she was having considerable difficulty staying on. 

_Oh, right._ She told Jupiter what she had to do. The other Senshi nodded shortly. Then, raising her voice, she called, "What I say 'now,' jump off it, fast!" 

"Just…get on with it…" 

"Three…two…one…NOW!" 

"SUPREME THUNDER!"   
"ICE SPEAR!" 

As the attacks shot out, she caught a brief, confused glimpse of Venus leaping away. Then all sight was lost in the blaze, the burst of light and the thunder, and the noise that sounded like a million crystal goblets, all bursting at once… 

And when her vision finally cleared, they were alone in the street.

- - -

Venus joined them a few moments later. She was brushing at her hair, and with each brush, a cloud of tiny, glittering particles rose up. Mercury gingerly patted her own hair. 

"Careful," Venus said. "It's pretty sharp." 

"Um, maybe I'll leave it until I can get a brush." Mercury studied Venus wonderingly. "That…was rather impressive," she said after a moment. 

"Meh." Venus shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. You didn't do too bad yourself, you know. Or you, obaasan," she added to Jupiter, grinning. 

"Now look—" began Jupiter heatedly. 

"Obaasan?" said Mercury at the same moment. _Granny?_

"Oh, you should have heard her, last time. 'I've been doing this for centuries, just stay out of my way.'" Venus snickered. "You move pretty good for an old lady, Jupiter-sama." 

"Hey, I said I was sorry! What do you want, blood?" 

"Now, now," soothed Mercury. "Calm down. We're all friends here, right? I'm sure she didn't mean to be insulting…obaasan." 

The two of them shared a giggle as Jupiter spluttered helplessly. Mercury had the feeling that she was going to like Venus. Just as soon as they sorted out who was the comedian and who was the straight man, of course. 

"How did you know to come here, anyway?" asked Mercury curiously. "You don't have your communicator yet." 

"My what? No, I was out window-shopping with Bendis, and we heard the noise. She said we'd better take a look." 

"Bendis?" said Jupiter sharply, looking interested. "She's here? I've been wanting to meet her. Artemis keeps dropping these funny hints, but he won't say much about her." 

Venus looked thoughtful. "That's funny. Bendis is just the same way about Artemis. I wonder why?" She looked around. "She was here when I went inside…oh, there!" 

She ran over to a narrow gap between two buildings, reached down, and returned a moment later holding a squirming ball of fur. "Everyone, this is Bendis. Bendis, meet Jupiter and Mercury." 

"Let me go, you idiot!" the ball of fur spat. It straightened out and leaped to the ground as she loosened her grip, and became a small tabby cat with a curious white circle on its forehead. It looked up at Mercury and Jupiter and said nervously, "Uh…hello." 

"Hello," Jupiter said back gravely. "We've been hearing about you from Artemis." 

"You—you have?" The cat sounded miserable. Actually, she looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but here. _Cat?_ Mercury thought. _She doesn't look much more than a kitten._

"What's the matter with you?" asked Venus suspiciously. "You sound like somebody's died, or something." 

"You shut up!" the cat shouted. "You don't know what you're—" She wilted suddenly, glancing up at Jupiter. "Sorry," she muttered. 

Jupiter stared down at her, perplexed. Mercury opened her mouth to speak—and at that moment her computer bleeped. She looked down at the screen, surprised. She'd forgotten to shut down the scanning program before, she saw. And now it was showing— 

"Someone's watching us," she said, incredulous. "Someone—no, wait, some_thing_ big, just over that way…" 

She looked up, along the street. The others followed her gaze. For several seconds, they saw nothing: an empty street, buildings, the background of the city…and then, slowly, it glided out into view. 

An Opal. 

"It's 'P' Division," said Jupiter, sounding relieved. "About time the police arrived." 

"What?" said Bendis, sitting up straight. "Oh, no." 

"What's the matter?" asked Mercury. 

"We've got to get out of here," the cat said urgently. "Be—I mean, Venus, come on. We have to leave!" 

Venus picked her up obligingly, saying, "What's the rush? I mean, they've seen all of us before—" 

"It's _me_ I don't want them to see! Come on! Hurry!" 

Venus glanced at the other two. "Um—" 

"Don't worry," Jupiter said. "Past time we left anyway. Let's go, huh?" 

They ran out of the street. Venus, in the lead, jumped effortlessly up onto a roof and began to leap across from building to building. Mercury stopped, taken aback; but Jupiter followed without hesitation, and after a moment Mercury tried it herself. It turned out to be easier than it looked, though she found she had to be careful with her landings. 

It did not take long to put some distance between themselves and the battle site. After a couple of minutes Venus stopped to let the other two catch up. "Now," she was saying to Bendis as Mercury came to a halt beside her, "what was that all about?" 

"Look," whispered Bendis. They looked back. 

The Opal was only a few hundred metres behind them. 

"It's following us!" Jupiter gasped. "What the—what do they think they're doing?" 

"Let's lose them, then!" said Venus. "Come on, this way!" 

She took off once more: heading toward the central district, Mercury soon realised. But surely more people would see them there? It was late afternoon, but there was still plenty of light to see by. 

It took her a few minutes to realise what Venus had in mind. The taller buildings further downtown gave them more cover, more places to hide. They could play hide-and-seek here for hours, if need be. The Opal didn't have a chance. 

They stopped for breath some time later. And when they looked up, the Opal was hovering right behind. 

Slowly it became a nightmare. No matter what they did, they could not lose it. Even when they descended to ground level, ran into a hotel foyer—startling a number of guests and staff—and out through the kitchen doors at the rear, it was unshakeable. 

It made no offensive moves. It took no action at all that they could see. But wherever they went, it was there. As if it had some kind of device that pointed them out, wherever they went. Transforming back out of their Senshi forms might have foiled it, but none of them were prepared to risk it. Not when they were being watched. 

"We've got to split up," panted Mercury at last. She was on the school running team, but she was a sprinter, not a long-distance slogger, and she was nearly exhausted. She could not keep going much longer. "It can't follow all of us at once." 

"No!" gasped Jupiter, her chest heaving. "We stick together!" They had stopped on a narrow ledge half-way up a twelve-story building. Jupiter was slumped down, her legs hanging over the edge. The Opal hung in the air, almost within stone's throw. 

"She's…right," wheezed Venus. She had been leaning against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath; but now she stood up once more. "Let me go first. I have…an advantage here." 

"What—?" began Jupiter. But before she could finish her sentence, Venus raised her hands and shouted. 

"VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!" 

The chain leaped out and caught on a cornice of a building a little way off across the street. Venus followed it, leaping off the ledge and swinging away in a long, flat arc. She disappeared around a corner and vanished. 

"Show-off," Jupiter muttered. She stood up with a groan. "Come on, Sailor Mercury, let's go." They jumped down to the roof of the next building, a couple of floors below—

- - -

The new sensor suite that had been installed in the Opal was behaving perfectly. They had been able to follow the trio without a hitch. But now, finally, the three had split up. The 'S' Division officer piloting the Opal punched in the commands to track the girl who'd swung away, and prepared to follow the two who'd stayed together— 

Dividing the tracking functions was the signal. 

Inside the new black box that was bolted to the floor of the Opal—the heart of the upgraded sensor system—was a computer chip that wasn't supposed to be there. Undetected, it had been substituted for the correct chip five days before. Now, responding to the predefined stimulus, it began to send out a new set of commands. Within three microseconds they had reached nearly every component in the Opal. Then the chip erased itself and went dead. 

The pilot cursed as her control board lit up red. Suddenly nothing worked. She wrestled with the inevitable for some time, but she really didn't have a chance. The sabotage had been impeccably planned. 

The Opal hit the ground a few seconds later, with a long, rending scream of metal. All the officers on board were mysteriously unhurt, but the new sensors were a complete write-off.

- - -

Jupiter and Mercury watched the crash, dumbfounded. 

They hung around for a few minutes to see if anyone needed help, but everyone seemed to make it out unscathed. The two Senshi gave up, detransformed, and went home. 

* * *

  

"I don't understand," Beth protested. "Why would the police have been chasing us?" 

It had been a short, quiet trip home after all. The Opal hadn't followed them; it must have stayed with Jupiter and Mercury. Bendis wasn't too worried about that. If Jupiter was really Lady Kino reborn, she'd get herself and Mercury out all right, somehow. 

Now, safely ensconced in Beth's bedroom, with her parents watching the viddy in the living room, the girl had to go getting curious. That could be tricky. Bendis concentrated on looking relaxed. 

"How should I know?" she said innocently. 

"Oh, come on. It's not the first time you've gotten all weird about Opals, either." 

"I—" Bendis hesitated, but for once the girl would not back down. Still…it wasn't a _big_ secret. "I think it was me they were chasing," she said reluctantly. 

Beth blinked. "_You_? Why? How?" 

"Well, ahh, the Serenity Council, um, sort of…knows about me." Embarrassed, Bendis began to wash herself furiously. That was supposed to be a signal to change the subject; but the dratted girl simply waited patiently, and at last Bendis had to continue. "One of them heard me talking," she admitted. 

"Which one?" Beth asked, interested. 

"What?" Bendis was caught by surprise. "I don't know! It was dark! Anyway, I was concentrating on the fish—ahh, that is, I was concentrating on…oh, never mind," she said, exasperated. "Anyway, he heard me talk. After that, there were Opals after us all the time. Artemis thought it was just a coincidence," she added with a snort. "Shows what _he_ knows." 

Beth frowned in thought. "I suppose the Council _would_ be interested in you," she said judiciously. "It goes with the name, after all." Then another thought occurred to her. "They must be interested in me, too. And Jupiter and Mercury. I mean, they say they're running things until the Queen returns, right? Maybe we should go and talk to them." 

"What?" Bendis was shocked. "No! Are you crazy?" 

"Well, why not?" asked Beth logically. 

"Because—because—well, just because!" The cat turned her back on her, her whiskers bristling angrily. 

"I mean, surely they have a right to know?" insisted Beth. "Maybe that's why that Opal was getting so creepy. Because they couldn't find us any other way." 

"I doubt it," Bendis said darkly. Then she sighed. "All right. I'll…I'll talk it over with Artemis. Don't do anything until then, all right?" 

"You'll talk to Artemis!" said Beth, excited. "Really? When? Can I come too?" 

"No!" the cat snapped. "I…don't see Artemis very often. We're kind of operating independently for now. I'll bring it up the next time I see him." 

"When's that?" she prodded. 

"Mind your own business," Bendis said rudely. Then, seeing the look on Beth's face, she said hastily, "No, wait. I'm sorry. I…that is…look, just don't push it, all right? It'll probably be a while before I see him next. I'll…I'll let you know, I promise." 

Beth's hurt expression didn't change. With an inward sigh, she got up and went and butted her head against the girl's arm. That didn't work either, and finally she lay down in Beth's lap and started purring. (The infuriating part was how good she felt there.) Finally, she felt Beth's hand on her back, stroking gently, and relaxed. Another situation defused…for now. 

Later, they lay in bed together: Beth lying on her side, wrapped around her pillow, and Bendis curled up comfortably against the small of her back. She wasn't quite sure when she'd gotten into the habit of sleeping like that. It was almost perverse: sleeping with a human. Best not to think about it, perhaps. Fortunately Beth didn't usually move much in her sleep. 

She heard the girl stir, and flicked one eye open. "Bendis? Are you awake?" Beth said softly. 

She sighed. "What do you want?" 

"Why were you acting so weird before, when I introduced you to the other Senshi? It was almost like you were afraid of them." 

More like, she'd been afraid of what Artemis might have told them. But she couldn't say that. "You told me that Sailor Jupiter is Lady Kino reborn. And, well, I never met any of the original Senshi, remember. Meeting her was…was like…" She let her voice trail off suggestively. It was even true. Like meeting a living legend. 

"Oh." A silence fell again. Bendis began to drift back toward sleep. Then she heard Beth chuckle softly. 

"What _now_?" 

"Oh, it's just…when we were leaving, right after we killed that…monster thing…I saw Iku-chan in the next street. She almost saw another Senshi fight." 

"Yes? So?" 

Another chuckle. "I was just thinking what Nanako-chan would have said. She hasn't seen us at all yet, except on the viddy." 

"Go to sleep, Beth." 

* * *

  

"That's what she said?" asked Artemis sharply. "'It seemed like a good idea at the time'?" 

"Yes," said Dhiti, puzzled at his insistence. "Why? What's the matter?" 

Artemis shook his head slowly. "I don't like it," he said, almost to himself. "That, and this acting-like-a-cat business. It's just the sort of thing Bendis would come up with. But for a human to be going along with it…" 

"You think she's going to have problems?" asked Miyo. 

"I think she's going to get herself seriously hurt before long," said Artemis bluntly. 

"Are you sure? I mean, she does seem to have a certain…gymnastic ability," Dhiti offered. 

"So do you, in your Senshi form. You could probably do what she does, if you tried." 

"I wouldn't dare," said Dhiti faintly. 

"Right, and that's the problem. Those stunts today, and the ones I've seen her do on the viddy…Venus doesn't seem to consider the consequences of what she does before she does it." Artemis sighed. "Or…I don't know. Maybe I'm reading too much into this. But I'm worried about what Bendis is doing with her." 

"What kind of damage can she do?" said Miyo. "She's not much more than a kitten. She seemed very quiet when we met her. Shy. Kind of cute, actually." 

Artemis gave her an odd look. "This _is_ the same Bendis we're talking about?" he asked. 

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you're exaggerating. She can't be that bad." 

"No. No, right…of course not. She's not that bad. How could she be? She's a perfect angel. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She's…cute." Artemis growled, deep in his throat. "Give me strength." 

Dhiti cleared her throat noisily. "About this monster we met," she said suggestively. 

"Oh, right. What was it? A 'vitrimorph.' Can't say I've ever heard that one before." Artemis cocked his head. "Did your scans show up anything interesting?" 

"Uh…" Dhiti flushed. "I haven't had a chance to look yet," she said. Honesty made her add, "I'm not sure what to look _for_, really." 

"Well…try, anyway. Anything would help. Mm…I'm interested in this woman who was controlling the thing, too. You didn't notice anything in particular about her?" 

"She looked familiar, somehow," Miyo offered. "But I can't place her." 

"Dhiti-san, I don't suppose you got a picture of her on your computer?" Dhiti shook her head. "Ah, well. Keep it in mind, next time." 

"I did have other things to think about, you know," Dhiti retorted. 

"Yes, but…oh, you know what I mean! I need some information here! And that's supposed to be your speciality." 

"So sorry," Dhiti snapped. "Next time I'll just prance around playing with my computer and throwing shabon sprays, shall I?" 

"Hey, calm down," interjected Miyo. "We're all supposed to be friends here, right?" 

Dhiti snorted. "I've heard that somewhere before, today," she observed. "Isn't that right…obaasan?" 

"Dhiti-chan…" Miyo began in a warning tone. Then, unexpectedly, she chuckled. "Sorry," she said. "I just had a mental picture of you…dancing around, throwing shabon sprays." She snickered again. "You're no Ami, that's for sure…" 

She stopped suddenly. Her face went white. 

"No, you're not, are you?" she whispered.

- - -

"What's the matter?" Dhiti asked. 

It gave her the creeps, sometimes, when Hayashi had her memory spasms, remembering past lives back when she was one of King Tut's handmaidens or something. It made Dhiti wonder if this was what being a Senshi was all about; if someday she'd be doing this too. It was enough to make her want to run for her life. 

But in a way, it was kind of cool, too. The idea that she was a friend of someone who had actually _been_ there, back in the glory days. Dhiti was interested in history—the only subject at school she bothered to do well at—but Miyo _was_ history. And she was also fun to be around, most of the time. 

Friendship was confusing, sometimes. 

"Hayashi?" she tried again. "What's wrong?" 

Miyo looked up slowly, blinking. "What? Sorry. It's…it's nothing. Sorry. I just thought of something, that's all." She gave a wan smile. "What were we talking about? That Opal that chased us?" 

"Um, no," Dhiti told her, thinking, _Nothing. Right. Sure._ Aloud, she added, "Actually—" 

"Good point, though," put in Artemis. "I was going to ask about that. Did you get a good look at it? Was it a regular 'P' Division Opal?" 

"What other kind is there?" asked Dhiti, momentarily distracted. 

"'W' Division has a fair number," Artemis replied. "They're usually pretty clearly marked as military, though, and you don't often see them inside the city. 'R' Division has a few, for traffic monitoring and so forth. Oh, and 'S' Division has a number; but you can't tell those from 'P' Division ones." 

"Oh. Well, this looked like an ordinary police one to me." 

"Hmm. Most likely the Serenity Council is getting interested in you. Bendis and I had a few close encounters with them, before." 

"Oh? How close?" 

"Well…the Council found out Bendis existed, and after that we had Opals on our tails a few times. Bendis always thought it was just a coincidence." He snorted. "Shows what _she_ knows." 

"Well, I guess they would be interested, wouldn't they?" pointed out Dhiti. "Goes with the name." 

Artemis hesitated. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "It's just that…I don't know, there's something about them that bothers me, for some reason. They always seem just a little bit…slimy to me." 

"Isn't that how politicians are supposed to be?" 

"Not when they name themselves after Queen Serenity, they aren't." Artemis shook his head. "Anyway, it's beside the point. You girls have a job to do. The last thing you want to do is go getting mixed up with politics." 

"Sounds good to me," Dhiti agreed. "Right, Hayashi?" 

There was no answer. 

"Hayashi?" Dhiti was getting seriously worried now. The tall girl was turned half-away from her, her face partially obscured, but she almost looked as if she— 

"Hayashi? Are you listening? Hayashi?" 

Still nothing. 

"…Miyo-chan?" 

Hayashi looked up finally. She looked miserable. "Oh!" she said, making a dismal attempt to hide it. "Dhiti-chan? I'm sorry…" 

Dhiti took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "C'mon, Hayashi, please. Tell me what's wrong." 

The taller girl shook her head, not answering. She looked like she was actually on the point of tears. Dhiti felt afraid. She had never seen Hayashi cry, never. 

"I'm your friend," she said softly. "Please. Let me help." 

"You can't help. No-one can help." Hayashi turned away. Her shoulders were shaking. "It's…it's nothing, it's silly. I…" 

"Tell me," Dhiti whispered. 

"I…was just remembering Ami-chan. I mean, Lady Mizuno. I…when you mentioned shabon sprays, I was reminded, and…and then I suddenly realised. That you're Sailor Mercury now. And that means she wasn't reborn." Hayashi was definitely crying now. "And I'm never going to see her again." 

Dhiti felt cold. She didn't know what to say. Was she supposed to apologise for living? And yet, Hayashi had just lost a friend. Had just realised her loss, at least, even if it had actually happened long ago. How did you try to comfort someone, when you were, in a way, the one who was hurting them? 

She lifted her hand, reached out to touch her arm. "Hayashi," she began. 

"Please…" Hayashi took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry…but I…I'd really like to be alone now." 

Dhiti stared at her. _Let me help._ But how? 

"Please." 

Sometimes, no matter how good you were with words, there was simply nothing you could say. Nothing at all.

- - -

"Makoto," said Artemis softly after Dhiti had gone. 

"Don't _call_ me that," Miyo said through her tears. "I'm not Makoto. I'm not Hebe. I'm Miyo. Just Miyo. I can't be…can't be…" 

She could not continue. It had been right in front of her, all this time, and she had refused to see it. How could she have done that? What did it say about her, that she be so blind, so unwilling to see? 

"Miyo, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd realised before now." 

It had been easier to accept Minako's loss. She had never met the new Venus then, and so she could treat it more impersonally, accept her as a replacement. An unpleasant truth, but not an unexpected one. But with Dhiti it was different. Dhiti was her friend, so Miyo had closed her eyes. She had not wanted to see the truth, accept the consequences. She had not wanted to face the facts. 

The inescapable fact that a new Sailor Mercury, in this age, in this way, meant that the old one was gone. 

She remembered her friend: solemn, studious Ami—so quiet, so shy, and yet always so quick, so dedicated; so ready to sacrifice her own dreams for the good of her friends. Then, horribly, she remembered seeing Ami die. It had been seven hundred years. But it felt like yesterday. Yesterday. 

"What about the others?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Rei, Haruka, Michiru? What about Setsuna? What about…what about Princess Usagi?" She looked up at last, stared at him through puffy red eyes. "Artemis, what if I'm the only one left? What if I'm the last?" 

He was silent for a long time. As if he were debating something in his mind. 

At last he said, "Miyo, I want you to come with me." 

"Leave me alone," she whispered. 

"Miyo," he said insistently. "You have to come. It's important." 

"Not NOW!" she shouted, clenching her fists. But the rage died away almost instantly. "Go away," she said dully. "Just leave me alone." 

"There's something I haven't told you." 

That did catch her attention, in spite of herself. "Big surprise," she muttered, not wanting to be distracted. 

"Miyo, please. This is…I think you need to see this. Please. Come with me." 

Unwilling, but still too depressed to put up much of a fight, she let herself be argued into it. She washed her face, changed her clothes, and left the house, carrying a canvas satchel with her at Artemis' insistence. 

They walked through the streets for some time. In spite of herself, Miyo did begin to feel a little better. The fresh air, the breeze in her face…she still felt the loss. But it began to retreat. 

They seemed to be heading downtown. "Where are we going?" she asked. 

"You'll see," the sat said. "Just a couple more minutes now." 

They continued on. Miyo knew this area, but she didn't come here often. It was a trendy sort of district: full of upmarket cafes, boutiques and salons…the area you went to be seen. Miyo's tastes were more traditional. 

"That building up ahead," Artemis said in a low voice, waiting for a moment when nobody was nearby. 

She looked. "You're kidding," she said involuntarily. 

"No. Now, listen. I'm going to have to ride in that bag you're carrying. Don't go in the main door. There's an underground car park. Head down there. Let me out when you get to the second level down." 

Confused, but oddly expectant, she opened the bag and let him in. She walked casually in through the car-park entrance. Nobody gave her a second glance. 

She let Artemis out two floors below ground. He led her to a closed door at the rear of the car-park. There was a keypad on the wall next to it. Artemis recited a number and, bemused, she punched it in. The door opened to reveal a narrow staircase. 

"Upstairs," Artemis said. "The third floor. Try to keep quiet." 

She followed him up four flights of stairs. The door at the top opened with another keypad (and how did Artemis know these numbers?) and she stepped out into— 

Somebody's apartment? 

"Artemis, what is this?" she hissed. 

"Quiet," he muttered back. "Through here." 

They went down a short passage and turned into a large room that looked like an office. As they reached the door Miyo stopped, looking around. It was neat, tidy, almost fastidious. Windows filled most of two walls. The rest of the walls were largely bare, though the few decorations she could see looked expensive. The furniture looked expensive, too. The desk at one end of the room— 

There was a woman sitting at the desk. She was slim, attractive, her close-cropped, spiky hair dyed a brilliant white. She looked up as Artemis walked in, and frowned. Then, oddly, she reached under her desk. Miyo heard a faint click. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked the cat. "We weren't supposed to meet again for three more days." 

Miyo blinked. This woman knew Artemis? 

There was something familiar about her voice. 

"Something else came up," Artemis said casually. "There's someone here who needs to see you." 

"What?" The woman looked around quickly, and saw Miyo standing hesitantly at the door. Her eyes widened. 

"Damn it!" she cursed. "I told you no!" 

"I'm sorry," Artemis said. "But I had to, Itsuko. She has to know." 

Miyo stared at the woman. Her voice was so familiar. Where had she heard it before? And the way she shouted at Artemis. And even her face looked oddly— 

She froze. 

"Rei?" she whispered. 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER SIX**

**Next:** A reunion; a mysterious stranger; a new assault on the Senshi; and an unexpected arrival.

Thanks to my pre-reader, Sandy Drobic. 


	8. Chapter 7: Transformation

**What has gone before:** In the year 3478 Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the invaders. Civilisation fell; a new dark age began. Now, in the year 4200, a new world order has risen, centred on the city of Third Tokyo and ruled by the shadowy Serenity Council. 

Artemis survived the final battle; now he and his great-granddaughter Bendis are searching for a new generation of Senshi. Shortly after they argue and split up, Bendis discovers the new Sailor Venus: a girl called McCrea Beth. For his part, Artemis finds the new Jupiter and Mercury—Hayashi Miyo and Sharma Dhiti. Miyo is actually Kino Makoto, now reborn in her third lifetime; but when Artemis tries to re-awaken her memory of her previous life as Sailor Jupiter, he accidentally restores her memory of the Silver Millennium as well. 

The first exploits of the Senshi are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction: some people hate them; others want to worship them. The Council, already searching for Bendis, create "vitri- morphs"—crystalline monsters designed to hunt Senshi. 

Meanwhile another survivor of Crystal Tokyo has become involved: Hino Rei, once Sailor Mars, now powerless, and owner of the Olympus Gymnasium under the name Pappadopoulos Itsuko. Her office is bugged by a group of Council investigators after Artemis is seen at the Olympus. To preserve the secret of her past, she seeks help from an old friend in the Sankaku clans, a mysterious criminal group. But the investigators learn of this and their suspicions are only deepened. 

When vitrimorphs appear in the city, Venus, Jupiter and Mercury begin to work together, fighting them. They are followed by an Opal, a flying patrol vehicle fitted by the Council with Senshi detectors; but the Opal has been sabotaged by Sailor Pluto (who has also survived, now using the name Fumihiko Sadako), and crashes. 

Without Beth's knowledge, two students at her school realise that she is Sailor Venus. And Miyo, upset by the realisation that Minako and Ami have not been reborn in this time, is taken to see an old friend… 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER SEVEN  
Transformation:  
Thy Will Be Done**

"Hello, Makoto," said Itsuko. "How've you been?" 

Miyo just stood there, looking stunned. "Rei?" she whispered again. 

"It's probably best that you don't call me that," Itsuko said calmly. "And you're Miyo now, right?" She glanced down at Artemis. "I take it he didn't tell you who you were coming to see." 

Miyo closed her mouth, finally, and swallowed hard. "Rei," she breathed for the third time. "What are you…how…I mean, you've been reborn too? Oh, thank goodness—" 

Itsuko closed her eyes for a moment. "No," she said. "No, I haven't been reborn. I got here the hard way." 

"The what?" After a second she saw the sudden comprehension in the girl's eyes. "Oh. Oh, no." 

"Yes. It's been a while." Itsuko got up from her desk and went to the window. It was a struggle to keep control. Part of her wanted to throttle Artemis, for springing this on her without warning. Part of her wanted to run to Miyo and hug her. And part of her— 

Part of her remembered the last time she had spoken to Makoto.

- - -

_"The truth is," she'd confessed to Artemis several days before, "when it happened, when everything fell apart and she got killed…we hadn't spoken in more than fifteen years."_

That day in Crystal Tokyo…they'd gotten together, she and Makoto and Haruka and Michiru, for a meal and a chance to gossip about old times. Rei hadn't seen the others in a while, and it was nice to be able to catch up. All of them had their duties, and they carried them all over the globe and beyond. Chances to meet like this were few. 

They talked about what they'd been doing. Michiru spoke about some of the work she'd been doing on Europa, and Haruka told a story about a drunken flare-rider she'd had to chase all the way out into the Oort cloud that had them all laughing. And Rei and Makoto had their own stories to tell. 

It had all been very pleasant and amicable. 

_"It was just a silly argument. Nothing important at all. But it got out of hand…neither of us would back down, and…oh, it just went on and on! For weeks, whenever we saw each other, we'd just end up bringing it up again…"_

Just a silly argument. Meaningless. 

Makoto was telling a long and rather unlikely story about when she'd last seen Minako, and Rei saw the punch-line coming and beat her to it. That was all. They laughed about it, but Makoto got annoyed, and gradually the conversation turned into friendly bickering. Then not-quite-so-friendly bickering. 

All the same, the evening ended up well enough. After all, they'd known each other for so long, hadn't they? Haruka and Michiru made their excuses and left together, their arms around each other, and Makoto and Rei watched them go and breathed envious sighs, and exchanged rueful glances—none of Makoto's marriages had lasted more than five years, and Rei's record was even worse—and then they too parted, perfectly satisfied with the evening. 

A few days later Serenity called them in to the Palace. She had a job for them in Holland, a fiddly thing; they'd have to work together pretty closely for the next few weeks. Well, that was fine, wasn't it? They were the best of friends. Rei was quite looking forward to it; she so seldom left Crystal Tokyo. 

Which one of them brought it up again? Such a little, petty thing. It was certainly only meant as a joke. But the bantering became carping, and the carping became an argument that turned acrimonious, and before long they had to cut short the day's work. 

Still, it wasn't important. They were adults, and they were good friends, and neither of them really wanted to continue with an argument that was, really, so trivial. 

But neither of them could leave it alone. 

_"It just kept getting worse. We knew each other so well, we knew all the wrong things to say…we usually ended up shouting at each other…"_

Rei would never have dreamed that the day would come when she dreaded seeing her friend. She was quite sure that Makoto felt the same way. And underneath it all, they were still friends. They both of them knew that what they were doing was foolish, insane. A simple apology could have ended it at any time. 

Somehow, though, the apologies never quite came. There was always the need for one last quick jab before the humble words could be said; and so of course the humble words never got said at all. They had all but forgotten the original argument by now. 

So, little by little, the rift deepened. Little by little, the hurt accumulated, shaping something terrible out of a friendship nearly fifteen hundred years old. It was all unravelling, everything they had gone through together; and neither could turn aside from the dark road they were travelling. Hot, angry words had been spoken, words that cut deeper than any knife. 

There came a time when there were no more words to be said. 

_"One day I…it was my fault, I went too far…I said some horrible things to her, really horrible things, things I couldn't take back. And then she said—" Itsuko had stopped, shaken her head. "No. I don't want to think about what she said. Not ever again. And we fought, Artemis, we actually fought…"_

It came down to this: two Senshi, alone in a room, staring at each other, enraged, fists clenched, each waiting for the other to make the first move. 

Makoto had never been the type to back down. Neither had Rei; and they had gone far past the point when either would have considered it. The damage had been done; the insults and curses—and worse—had been exchanged. Only two people who had been such good friends for so long could have hurt each other so badly. 

The time for apologies, for calm, reasoned words, was past. Neither of them could bear to try it again. The hurt was too deep, the anger too hot, and the pain of shattered friendship too raw. 

It came down, finally, to this: two Senshi, alone in a room, staring at each other. And then, with no visible signal, flying at each other. 

_"I think that was the worst thing I ever did. We'd been such friends, for so long—and all we could do was try to kill each other…_

_"I don't remember how it ended. I truly don't. Nobody stopped us, I know that much. I don't think anyone else even knew. But finally…afterward… _

_"From that day until the Plague began, we never spoke. We tried never to be in the same room together. The few times we couldn't avoid each other, I could see that she hadn't forgotten a thing…and I'm sure she could see that I hadn't either…"_

Old friends.

- - -

"How did you get up here?" Itsuko asked coolly. 

She could hear the confusion in Miyo's voice. "I came in through the car park. I don't—Rei, what's wrong? Why are you so—" 

"I asked Artemis not to bring you here. Apparently he decided he knew better." Itsuko turned, looked Miyo in the eyes. "I had to tell him about—before. I'm sorry." 

For a second longer she saw puzzlement in Miyo's expression. Then it vanished. She saw the sudden memory dawn. She saw the astonishment, the horror; and lastly, in the instant before Miyo's face went perfectly blank, what she had known would be there. The anger. 

Artemis must have seen it too. "Um, excuse me…" he began. He stopped when he saw how completely they were ignoring him. 

"It was a long time ago," said Miyo slowly. 

"Fifteen years," answered Itsuko. 

"More like…what, seven hundred and forty?" 

"Fifteen years for you, though." 

"That's true. But I—" Miyo stopped, shaking her head. "Rei, I don't want to do this. I don't…do we really have to dig this up again?" 

"Oh, please. Are you going to tell me that you just want to let it drop? After everything you said? After everything _I_ said, for that matter. After that…that day in Amsterdam? I still have the scars, if you don't." 

"Unfair." Unconsciously, Miyo rubbed her side, just below her ribs. "I had my share of scars." 

"Just a moment," said Artemis sharply. "Itsuko…no, Rei. You told me that you'd forgiven her. You said that after seven hundred years, you'd—" 

"Butt out, cat." For an instant, real anger entered Itsuko's voice. "That's beside the point…isn't it, Makoto?" 

"Beside the point? Is that all you can say, 'beside the point'?" Miyo demanded, outraged. "Where do you get off? You accuse me of trying to just bury it all under the table, but you want to do the same thing? What the hell are you trying to pull here?" 

"I—" Itsuko broke off. It was all going wrong. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for any of this. 

"I know what you're doing," Miyo said in a low, dangerous voice. She didn't look sixteen years old at all, not now. "You're trying to manipulate me, just like before. You want me to be the one to let it drop, so you won't have to admit you were wrong!" 

It hit Itsuko like a hammer-blow. Was _that_ what she was doing? Did she really feel that strongly about it, after all this time? Was she really that much of a hypocrite? 

No. She couldn't be. She couldn't bear it. 

"That's not it," she heard herself saying. It was as if someone else was speaking through her lips. "That's not it at all." 

"What then?" demanded Miyo icily. 

"I—" She hesitated. But there was nothing left now, nothing but the truth. "I need to know if you _can_ let it drop." 

Miyo stared at her. 

"Seven hundred years, Makoto," Itsuko said softly. "Seven hundred years is a long, long time. Alone." 

And so it was out at last. Out in the open. The two of them stared at each other. Itsuko bit her lip uneasily. Miyo opened her mouth to speak— 

The commset buzzed. 

Itsuko swore furiously and snatched the remote up, ready to bawl out whoever it was. But the words died unsaid when she heard Ochiyo's voice. "Itsuko-san? There are some 'P' Division officers here to see you. They want to ask some more questions about the burglary on Monday night." 

Itsuko sighed. "All right," she said heavily. "Tell them I'll be down in a couple of minutes." She hung up and turned back to Miyo and Artemis once more. 

They were gone. She was alone in the office. 

"Shit."

- - -

A little distance away from the Olympus, Miyo stopped to aim a vicious kick at the wall of the building she was passing. The wall stubbornly refused to disintegrate, so she kicked it again, then again and again. The violence was better—anything was better—than having to think about…things. About the very bad day she was having. 

"You could go back," Artemis suggested. 

"Not a chance," she snarled. "I'm not going to get sucked into that again. I won't let her…won't let her manipulate me again, not the way she—" 

"Rei? Manipulate?" said Artemis incredulously. "Since when was she ever that subtle?" 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Rei can be the most subtle person I ever met when she—" Miyo broke off in mid-sentence, shooting an unfriendly glance at Artemis. "Now who's trying to manipulate who?" 

"Dammit, Miyo, can't you see she wants to end this? She admitted it herself! And you said you didn't want to keep it going either! Why can't you just—" 

"YOU SHUT UP!" shouted Miyo at the absolute top of her voice. He recoiled, shocked. In an only slightly lower voice she went on, "Damn you, you weren't _there_! You don't know! You—you had no business butting your nose into this! You don't know what happened!" 

They stared at each other for a moment: Artemis tense, ready to run; Miyo white with rage, her fists and her teeth clenched. 

A hand fell on Miyo's shoulder. 

She whirled, furious, ready to strike—and stopped suddenly. It was Ichiyo standing there, looking unusually serious. Fujimaro was a little distance behind. He looked scared. 

"Calm down, Miyo," said Ichiyo in a low voice. "You're making a spectacle of yourself." 

"What are you—" she began. 

"Everyone's looking at you, oneesan," said Fujimaro in a thin, strained voice. 

She looked around quickly. There were several other people in the street, and most of them were watching her. As she met their eyes, they looked away quickly. _How much did they hear?_ she thought. Her anger was gone, melting away in a sudden rush of embarrassment…and fear. 

Her eyes flicked back to Fujimaro. Why did he look so nervous? And Ichiyo seemed so serious— 

_Oh, no. They think I'm cracking up._

_Maybe they're right…_

"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly. A moment later she felt like biting her tongue. This was the fashionable part of town, the place where the trendy set hung out; and it was after nine on a Saturday evening. Ichiyo fit in here perfectly. It was she who didn't belong. 

"I think you should come home," Ichiyo said quietly, ignoring her question. 

She looked at him for a moment, then back to Fujimaro; and finally, quickly, down to Artemis. But the cat had his back turned, refusing to look at her. As she watched, he slowly walked away, never looking back. 

She turned back to Ichiyo. "Yes," she said, in a low, defeated voice. 

They escorted her home, one on either side of her. She was surrounded by family, by brothers she knew cared for her. But she had never felt so alone. 

* * *

  

Number Twelve knocked gingerly on the door. A voice said, "Come," and she opened it and entered the office. 

The chairman looked up briefly, said, "Sit," and went back to the file he was reading, occasionally adding an annotation. Twelve sat down and waited, trying not to appear impatient. It wasn't easy. The waiting game was an old power ploy—childish, really—but that did not stop it being effective. 

"Have you seen the latest reports from 'D' Division?" the chairman asked suddenly, not lifting his eyes from the monitor screen. 

"I haven't had much chance to keep up lately," Twelve answered shortly. The chairman knew that as well as she did. The Vitrimorph project was taking all her time. 

"Mm. We have to remember there's a world outside, though." The chairman shook his head, sighing, and switched the monitor off. "We're getting quite a lot of pressure from other countries to take an official position on the Senshi. After all, we rule in their name." He laughed dryly. 

Twelve frowned. "Is it serious?" she asked. 

"Not yet. 'D' Division can take care of any situations that develop. But before long we will have to make a statement on the matter. We're beginning to look bad, and we can't afford that. The Yen has dropped slightly already." 

"But—what kind of position _can_ we take? We can hardly announce that we're going to stand down in favour of a bunch of young girls!" 

"Mm. And yet, our other solution to the problem doesn't seem to be working too well, does it?" The chairman's eyes hardened suddenly. "Report," he ordered. 

She took a deep breath and began describing the operation: the selection of an attack site in the area where they suspected the Senshi were based; the commencement of the attack; and the arrival of Sailor Mercury. The chairman stopped her once or twice to ask questions, but for the most part he listened in silence, expressionless. 

When she reached the end of her story, he nodded slowly. "And your analysis?" he inquired. 

She shrugged. "Their powers and their teamwork are still raw, and their grasp of tactics is almost non-existent. The only thing that saved them was the…the childish nature of the attack. An animated dressmaker's dummy! If we were to to use the full range that the vitrimorphs are capable of—" 

"That is out of the question, as you should know. These…childish attacks, as you put it…are exactly what we need." He smiled. "At least for now." 

"Yes, but—" 

"Which brings me to another matter." He glanced down at a sheet of paper on his desk. "Your report seems to have been incomplete in one important respect." 

She froze. He'd had somebody else watching? Checking up on her? 

"'I'm leaving. Kill them all,'" the chairman read aloud. "Those were your words?" 

She licked her lips nervously. "I—they scared me. I didn't—" 

"You were well aware of the purpose of this operation. The Senshi must not be harmed until they have achieved our objective. And yet—" He shook his head sadly. "You ordered the vitrimorph to kill. You told it not to hold back, when holding back is precisely the point." He folded his gloved hands, and looked up at her. "Have you any excuse to offer?" 

"I was afraid! I—please—" 

"I thought not." He touched a button on his desk. "This is not the first time your behaviour has been…unsatisfactory. I'm afraid that our Master takes as dim a view of it as I do." 

Behind her, the door opened. She tried to get up, to run, but her muscles refused to obey. Her body was no longer her own. The Master was in control. 

"You have been allowed too great a level of autonomy. Fortunately, this can easily be corrected." 

She felt hands on her shoulders, dragging her to her feet. Her neck still worked; when she turned her head, she saw Three and Five, her colleagues, standing there. She opened her mouth to beg for help, but her tongue froze before she could utter a word. 

"A second-stage initiation should take care of matters." The chairman leaned back in his seat, his face expressionless. "Take her away." 

She could not speak, but she could still scream as they dragged her out.

- - -

The chairman sat at his desk for some time, staring down at his hands. He had fought too, once. He still paid the price, even today. But it was for the best. Now, he knew how foolish it was to struggle. Twelve should have remembered that. She would be reminded, soon enough. 

With a sigh, he turned to the next report on his screen. A preliminary analysis of another one of the day's disasters. That was one he wasn't going to be able to discuss in his office, though. 

He glanced at the clock display on his screen. Almost three in the morning. Well, too bad. The one he needed to talk to would still be up. 

He left his office without ceremony. A chauffeur was waiting outside. The chairman gave his orders, allowed himself to be helped into a car, and settled back with a sigh. Moments later they were humming through the night. 

It took fifteen minutes to reach the 'M' Division offices. The building was mostly darkened at this hour, but there were still lights on in some of the assembly and maintenance bays. He nodded at that, satisfied. Whatever else he was, he was still the director of 'M' Division, and it pleased him to see that his people were on the job. 

He nodded to the security guard in the lobby, and was allowed through promptly—he couldn't use one of the palm-print readers, of course. In the elevator, he slipped a plain white card into the maintenance-key slot. The elevator started downward immediately. 

Sixty metres below ground, he stepped out into a dimly-lit passage. The guards here didn't wave him through; they covered him with their weapons while they checked his retinal print. At last he was allowed to pass, and walked through the doors into M's workroom. 

One end of the laboratory had been cleared of equipment. The space thus created was filled with the remains of an 'S' Division Opal. Disassembled components and pieces of wreckage were strewn across the floor in what, to him, looked like a haphazard arrangement, but to M was probably perfectly logical. He stepped through them gingerly. 

M was not in sight at first, but after a few seconds he heard a scraping sound and the scientist clambered awkwardly out of the wreckage, carrying a complex-looking unit that dangled a maze of severed optical connectors. 

"What have you found?" the chairman asked quietly. 

M jumped, apparently seeing him for the first time, then sighed. "I should have known you'd come here tonight." 

"Have you found anything?" the chairman asked again. 

"There has scarcely been time—" M stopped suddenly, seeing the chairman's expression, then dumped the unit unceremoniously down on a workbench and sat down, yawning. "No. Or rather, nothing useful. Something caused a whole series of failure signals to go off at once. Everything in the Opal simply shut down. I can't explain why." 

"Was it something to do with the new sensors you designed?" 

"No! Nothing I designed could possibly do that." 

"But are you sure?" the chairman insisted. "If it was some kind of flaw that was already in the Opals—" 

"All right. All right." M sat back, rubbing eyes that were reddened from lack of sleep. "That much I'm sure of, at least. The other Opals are safe. But—" 

"But you have no idea why this one crashed." 

"I only received the wreckage two hours ago!" M snapped. "No, I've no idea, yet. And I cannot see how it could have been the new sensors, either. Most of the internal logs were erased, but I managed to recover enough to show that the sensors had been active for some time, and were functioning normally when the failure occurred." 

"That matches what the pilot says," the chairman said. 

"Eh? Oh, yes, of course. Can I get a copy of the debriefing report? It might help." 

The chairman hesitated. The debriefing report would show what the Opal had been doing when it crashed, and he didn't want to give too much away to the scientist. "I'll see what I can do," he temporised. 

"Huh." M scowled at him. "It would be helpful if I had some idea what these sensors are _for_. The specifications you gave me were so broad, I—" The chairman raised his eyebrows, and M sighed. "All right. I'll keep on checking. I suppose it's possible that there was some kind of interference between the wave buffers in the sensor unit and the propulsion field sink, though it's hard to see how. Or maybe a hysteresis effect…I'll have to run some simulations…" 

The chairman ignored the gobbledegook. "How long will that take? There is a certain amount of urgency in the matter." 

"There always is." M considered. "I'll try to push it, but these things take time. Just calculating the parameters—" 

"I'm sure it would be very inconvenient for you if you had to do your work from a wheelchair." 

There was a short silence. 

"Yes, it would," said M softly. "There's no need to make threats, though. I'll do my best. But it's still going to take time." 

He was regretting his words already. "As long as we understand each other," he said mildly. "I'm sure that your best will be sufficient, as always." 

M snorted. "How trite. I never give less than my best." And then, after a pause: "Anyway, it's not as though I have anything else to do, down here." 

"No," said the chairman. "No, you don't, do you?" 

* * *

  

"Captain?" 

Hiiro looked up from the report he was reading. "What is it, Mitsukai?" 

There was a slight frown on her face. "There's a message from headquarters. They want you for a meeting there tomorrow." 

Now it was his turn to frown. "Unusual," he said thoughtfully. "What's on their minds, I wonder?" He got up and stepped back to her 'control centre'—the tiny corner of the van that had been fitted out with her comms equipment and computer. 

"Let's see," he murmured, reading over her shoulder. "'Lack of progress'…I expected that, and they should have too. What else? 'In line of recent developments'—that's interesting. I wonder if someone else has made a breakthrough?" 

"They could mean the Hoseki connection," she offered. 

He shook his head. "HQ doesn't know that has anything to do with our case. I've got a couple of people looking into Hoseki, but that's nothing unusual. No, it must be something else. They—" He stopped suddenly, and swore. "Wait a minute. Midori found out, didn't he? Last Wednesday, when you and Kitada were checking the property files." 

She nodded. "Damn!" he went on. "That'll be it. Midori knows perfectly well that Hoseki is a dead end, but someone's leaning on Colonel Shiro for results, so Midori's brought it up. That's all we need—another red herring to get in the way." 

"So what do we do?" she asked after a moment. 

"What _can_ we do?" he shot back. "You send back an acknowledgement and tell them I'll be there for the meeting, that's what we do." He thought about it and added, "Tell them I'll bring Kitada with me. He saw the files section, and it'll do him good to get a look at the desk-job end of things." 

"Yes, sir." Her fingers rattled briefly on the keyboard. "Anything else?" 

"I don't think so." He eyed her sharply. "Wait a minute. How long have you been on duty there?" At her sudden change of expression he said, "What have I told you about that before? As a matter of fact…" 

He stepped over to a wall chart and scanned through it. "I thought so. You were supposed to be in the gym an hour and a half ago." 

"Sir—" she began. He cut her off. 

"It's not just to spy on the clients, you know. It's important for you, as well. You can't stay glued to that console all day long." He patted her shoulder, smiling. "Go on, now. Get moving." 

He returned to the report he'd been working on, carefully not thinking about how many hours he'd been on duty himself. Rank had its privileges. 

At her console, Mitsukai sat for some time, touching her shoulder where he'd patted it, a curious expression on her face. At last, obediently, she got up, fetched her gym bag, and stepped out of the van, blinking in the afternoon sunlight. 

* * *

  

Beth trotted cheerfully toward school, Bendis just behind her. It was a cloudy Monday morning, but the air was warm and the day promised to be sunny by afternoon. 

"What's got you so happy today?" grouched Bendis as they went. Beth hid a smile. Yesterday the cat had announced that she would be going into school with her. She insisted that she had some important things to check out at the school, but Beth was pretty sure that she was just going stir-crazy, stuck in the house all day. Today, though, she'd been downright testy when Beth woke her up. In almost three weeks at the McCrea home, Bendis had developed a definite preference for sleeping in in the morning. 

"Oh, nothing," Beth answered. 

It was nearly true. Actually, she was rather looking forward to school today—or, more specifically, to seeing Nanako. After all, she and the other Senshi had destroyed another monster on Saturday afternoon, and then been chased all over Third Tokyo. She was eager to hear what the rumour mill had to say. 

_Who are those other Senshi, anyway? Jupiter and Mercury. Maybe next time I'll get a chance to talk to them properly…_

She was so lost in her thoughts that, as she veered around a corner, she ran straight into someone before she noticed they were there. A moment later, both of them were sprawled on the ground. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Beth said hastily as she got up onto her hands and knees. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm so sorry—" 

"It's all right," said the person she'd run into. Another girl, Beth realised; a little taller than herself, with dark brown shoulder-length hair and a sombre expression. She was wearing a different school's uniform, with red-copper piping on the sleeves, and she was rubbing her elbow as she stood up. 

"Are you okay? Beth asked. "I didn't—" 

"I'm fine," said the other girl patiently, still rubbing her elbow. She bent down to pick up her satchel, and Beth caught a glimpse of a name printed neatly on its side: _Itagaki_. "I have to get going," she added before Beth could say anything else. "Good-bye." 

"Er—sorry," Beth repeated weakly as the girl hurried off. Shaking her head and sighing—and rubbing one or two sore places herself—she picked up her own satchel and started back toward school. 

"Just a moment," Bendis said before she'd gotten more than a few steps. She looked back. The cat was watching the other girl hurrying away in the opposite direction. 

"What is it?" Beth asked, a little impatiently. If they didn't hurry, she'd be late. 

"There's something funny about that girl," Bendis said slowly. 

"What?" said Beth, not really paying attention. "No, that's just a different school uniform. Hibari, I think—" She stopped suddenly. "Funny in what way?" she asked cautiously. 

"Umm, I'm not exactly sure," Bendis admitted. "I'd have to touch her to be certain." 

"Do you think she might be another Senshi?" asked Beth excitedly. 

"I don't know! She—it didn't feel anything like when I first found you. It could be something else entirely." 

Beth blinked. "Like what?" 

"Er—" Bendis hesitated. "Well, I'm sure there could be other explanations—" She saw Beth's expression and hastily added, "I'm going to follow her, just to make sure. I'll see you later, okay?" 

Beth scratched her head, watching as Bendis took off after the other girl. Something suddenly occurred to her. "Hey, Bendis!" she shouted. 

Bendis stopped, looking back. "What?" 

"Don't go dropping any pianos on her head, all right?" 

* * *

  

Dhiti listened to the teacher with half an ear, toying idly with a pencil. She was bored. She usually enjoyed history class—it was the only subject she liked enough to bother to do well at—but she'd already read several books about the Refounding, and the teacher wasn't saying anything she didn't know. Actually, she probably knew more about it than he did. 

Instead she was thinking about Miyo. Something was wrong there, something she couldn't make out. 

Saturday evening, at least, had been comprehensible. Then, after the battle, Miyo had been grief-stricken at the loss of a friend. Dhiti could understand that, at least, and it had troubled her that she hadn't been able to do a thing. (Strange, really, how much it did bother her. When had Miyo's well-being started to become so important to her? They were friends, sure, but this was different.) 

Today, though, Miyo wasn't sad. She was…different. Distant. Cold. Depressed, perhaps. She looked straight through people as if they weren't there. She brooded. Sometimes, she looked as though she wanted to kill someone. Even the teachers noticed it, and left her alone in class. It was…Dhiti groped for the right word. It was eerie. Completely unlike the Miyo she knew. Normally she was so totally open, you could read her like a book. Today, all the pages were blank. 

Dhiti had been watching her all morning, and she couldn't make out what it was. At times she thought Miyo was about to explode, fly into a rage. At other times it seemed more as if she were about to cry. Something had happened over the weekend, but Dhiti couldn't get her to talk about it. When they'd arrived at school that morning she'd tried to speak to her, but Miyo just brushed her off, as if— 

"—tell us, Sharma-chan?" 

She jumped, her attention suddenly brought back to the classroom. Eguchi-sensei was looking at her expectantly. Whoops. What had he asked her? 

"Sorry, sensei," she said, beaming at him. "I was so wrapped up in your brilliant oratory that the question just flew right past me." 

Nobody in the classroom even snickered. They were used to this. Pity. 

Eguchi-sensei just sighed. "I asked, Dhiti-san, if you could tell us some of the guiding principles that allowed the Refounding to occur?" 

Dhiti thought about it for a moment. An easy question, but…"Blind luck, and royal whim," she said. 

It would have gotten her into trouble in any other class. Eguchi-sensei knew her well enough—and, more importantly, knew how much she loved history—that he only raised his eyebrows and said, "Explain." 

Dhiti grinned. "Blind luck that the Archives weren't destroyed in the Great Fall, so the Founders' expedition could find them in 4102—"

- - -

In 4102, the world was in the depths of a new Dark Age. 

The fall of Crystal Tokyo in 3478 had left a ruined planet in its wake. When Queen Serenity died, the world died with her. Every crystal-based form of technology simply stopped working; and after so many centuries, few other forms of technology still existed. Every piece of machinery, every computer, every lamp and every library-reader was suddenly dead. Before long, so were most of the people. 

Without technology, the automated farms stopped working. Without readers to display the library crystals, nobody could look up how to run the farms themselves. And without the farms, everybody starved… 

Not quite everybody. A few settlements remained, mostly built around places where rare troves of _printed_ books remained. They weren't much help, usually—there are few practical hints for running a farm in an antique copy of "Oliver Twist"—but sometimes they were enough for a primitive kind of civilisation to survive. In time, they learned to do better. 

Inevitably, though, the enclaves themselves became targets for those who had nothing. Over the years, bands of raiders and petty warlords took their toll. By the year 4102, not many enclaves were left. 

Some of them did well, though. In 4102, the Cuddalore enclave in south-east India was both prosperous and secure. During a brief period of expansionist zeal they outfitted a sailing ship and sent an expedition to Japan—to the ruins of Crystal Tokyo itself, where, it was hoped, they would find some kind of booty or relic that might make the enormous cost of the trip worthwhile. 

The ruins were deserted. The fall of the city had devastated the area for a long way around, and though the blasted regions had finally grown over and become fertile again, few people had returned. The Cuddalore expedition simply walked in, pitched camp, and started exploring. 

Two weeks later they struck gold. No, not gold. Platinum, diamonds…no, more valuable than that. They struck history. They found the Royal Archives. 

The man who found the entrance—who managed to break the seal and open the door, and descended the steps into the first underground vault—had never heard of Howard Carter, and never would. But the sense of wonder and awe that he felt, as he raised his lantern and looked out over the contents of the first chamber of the Archives, were feelings that Carter, thousands of years before, would have recognised. 

He had expected to find another library: a computer core, filled with racks of crystals. Pretty things, but useless; worth a little as trinkets, but barely enough to make them worth taking home. Instead, he found the future. 

Because the room didn't contain storage crystals at all. It contained books. Printed books. Thousands upon thousands of books.

- - -

"Yes, it has been commented upon," admitted Eguchi-sensei. "The survival of the Archives was certainly remarkable. Calling it 'blind luck' might be a little excessive, though." 

"Practically nothing else in Crystal Tokyo survived," pointed out Dhiti, "not even other underground facilities. But all of the Archive vaults were intact." 

A treasure trove beyond imagination. The stored knowledge of an entire civilisation, perfectly preserved. Vaults of books—and, in other chambers, different kinds of treasures: paintings; sculpture; other works of art; audio and video records, etched onto little silvery metal disks; and so much more. A short-cut to civilisation, everything the explorers needed to know to be able to start again. Within a year, there were electric lights shining in the ruins. In ten years, they weren't ruins any more. 

The teacher chuckled. "All right, then. I'll accept 'blind luck' for now. But what about 'royal whim'?" 

"Why else would they contain books, instead of storage crystals?" Dhiti said promptly. "Nobody was _making_ books any more. Queen Serenity and the Senshi were the only ones who really even remembered them. It has to have been a Royal decree." 

Today, the Archives were sheltered under a great dome at the heart of Third Tokyo. That was a 'royal whim,' if you like; the Serenity Council decreed it, and it was so. The dome had been completed twenty years before, at colossal expense. It was surrounded by a huge forested park, and was lit up at night. From the air, it looked like a giant glowing eye in the middle of the city. 

"It might have been Lady Mizuno's suggestion," Dhiti added cheekily. "She's supposed to have liked books. Or maybe Meiou-sama knew the Fall was coming, so she arranged it—" 

"Ah, yes," said Eguchi-sensei. "The mythical Sailor Pluto. But I think we're getting into some grey areas here, historically speaking. As I'm sure you're aware, there's nothing in the Archives to suggest that such a person actually existed—" 

The lunch-break bell chimed, cutting him off. A few students had been following the argument with interest; most of the rest simply breathed sighs of relief as they hurried out of the classroom. 

Dhiti stayed at her desk for a few moments, watching Miyo. The tall girl rose slowly and started for the door. Her expression was difficult to read: distracted, distant. At least she didn't look actually hostile at the moment. Maybe she'd be willing to talk now. Dhiti hurried after her. 

"It wasn't quite like that," Miyo said absently as she caught up. 

Dhiti blinked. "What wasn't?" 

"The Archives. It wasn't just a…whim. It was supposed to be a memorial. A reminder of what the world had been, before the Great Ice. It was a museum as well as a library." 

That was an interesting idea. Dhiti thought about it. "But what about the records from Crystal Tokyo itself? Shouldn't they have been on library crystals, then?" 

"I think most of them were. There were copies of everything on crystal, of course. But the archivists got very proud of their books, and they kept on making them. They invented some kind of special paper that would last almost forever…I remember they set up a printing press behind the Palace." 

"And what about Meiou-sama? Sailor Pluto? Was she for real?" 

There was the ghost of a smile on Miyo's lips. "Sorry, that's a state secret." 

"Oh, come _on_!" Dhiti burst out indignantly. Miyo's smile widened a little. 

"Fine," Dhiti grouched. "Be that way. See if I care. Some friend you are." 

The smile vanished like a soap bubble bursting. A quick flash of something—pain, perhaps, or regret—flashed across Miyo's face. Then, her expression quite blank, she started to turn away. 

Dhiti stared after her. She'd said something wrong, but what? "Wait a minute!" she said. "What's the matter?" 

Miyo did not respond. She stood, her back turned, her head hanging. She did not appear to be breathing. Dhiti grabbed her by the shoulder and shouted, "Dammit, Hayashi! What's the matter? What did I say? Will you _talk_ to me!" 

The other girl did not answer for a moment. At last she said in a low voice, "Talking doesn't help. Sometimes it just makes it worse." 

With some difficulty, Dhiti bit back the flippant answer that tried to burst out. The walls were down, she realised; just for a moment, Miyo was wide open. But something told her that she had to be careful. One more careless remark and they'd slam back up. Maybe for good. 

She took a deep breath. "That depends on what you say," she tried gingerly. 

Miyo looked back at her, and there was a world of torment in her eyes. "What do you say when you've said everything, and nothing helped?" she asked. 

_Has she been fighting with someone?_ Dhiti thought frantically. _But who? Why?_ She didn't know what to do. But Miyo was waiting, waiting for her to make it better, and she had to tell her something. 

"You could say 'I'm sorry,'" she suggested. 

Miyo actually flinched. "But what if it's too late?" she whispered. 

"What if it isn't?" said Dhiti. 

They stared at each other for some time. At last Miyo said, in a voice that cracked, "I'm scared that she _won't_ be sorry." 

And finally Dhiti could no longer hold back the question. "Who?" she asked. "Who is it? What's happened?" 

"Who?" Miyo laughed mirthlessly. "Nobody you know. Somebody who's been dead for a long time." 

"You mean—" Dhiti swallowed with difficulty. "Do you mean…Lady Mizuno?" 

"Ami?" Miyo gave that laugh again. "No. Don't you remember? She died on Saturday evening. You were there." 

And with that she turned her back and strode off. Dhiti did not try to follow. 

After a while she felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see Kin, Liam and Mark grinning at her. She managed to grin back, and for the rest of the lunch break she gave a very convincing simulation of having a good time, which fooled nobody. 

* * *

  

Masao followed Hiiro in through the foyer of 'S' Division headquarters. Rather to his surprise, there was a sign outside clearly marking the building as 'S' Division. He'd expected it to be hidden somehow: perhaps disguised as a shipping corporation, or something. When he said as much, Hiiro laughed. 

"Sure, we've got camouflaged offices and depots and safe-houses and so on. But we _are_ a government agency, remember. We have to have a public face too. Someplace where the crazies can come in off the street and report their neighbours for hoarding beans. Somewhere"—he shot a wry glance at Masao—"where people can sign up as Irregulars." 

Masao cleared his throat. "I promise you, I've never hoarded a single bean in my life—" 

They made their way up to the sixth floor, both laughing. Public offices or not, Masao noticed that security _was_ tight. They had to show their IDs three times on the way. Hiiro's was a pale blue card. Masao, as an Irregular, had an orange one. 

Two men were waiting for them in the sixth floor reception. Masao recognised one of them: Lieutenant Midori. The two exchanged cool nods. The nod Midori gave Hiiro was even cooler. 

The other man, Colonel Shiro, was tall and lean, with iron-grey hair and thick, bushy eyebrows. He smiled as he shook Masao's hand. "Kitada-san," he said. "With us a little longer than expected, I see." 

"It's been a very, er, educational experience, sir," Masao said, grinning. 

"I'm sure," Shiro said with a chuckle. "You've met my ADC, Midori, I think." At Masao's nod, he turned his attention to Hiiro. "Captain, good to see you again. Sorry to pull you in like this—" Hiiro shrugged. "Yes. Well, we've got one other guest coming in for this afternoon's meeting. He should be arriving in just a few minutes…" 

As he spoke, the elevator chimed, and two men stepped out. One of them, to Masao's admittedly inexperienced eye, looked like a typical flunky. He recognised the other one immediately, though. A little less than average height, with a bullet head and bright, lively eyes, and a face that was famous not through public appearances (for he made almost none) but through his frequent appearance in caricature in editorial cartoons. Takeda Ryobe, Number Three of the Serenity Council, the director of 'S' Division. 

"Director," said Shiro, bowing his head respectfully. 

Takeda nodded quickly. "Colonel," he said. "These are the officers you mentioned?" 

"Yes, sir. Captain Hiiro Yoichi"—Hiiro bowed—"and this is one of our Irregular agents, Kitada Masao." Masao bowed too. 

"Irregular, eh? And not doing quite the sort of work you imagined we do, I'll wager." Takeda gave a quick smile. "I assure you, we do do other things besides looking for lost cats." Masao started to stammer an answer, but the director was no longer paying attention. "Colonel, let's get started, if you please. I have another appointment at half past three—" 

Shiro nodded. "Yes, sir. This way, please." They followed him through into a meeting room, except for the flunky, who remained behind at the reception desk. As Shiro closed the conference room door, the atmosphere inside took on a curiously dead quality, and Masao realised that the room was sound-proofed. 

"Now," Takeda said briskly, almost before Shiro was seated. "I hear that our cat search has unearthed some…unexpected connections." 

Shiro's eyes flicked toward Hiiro. Hiiro sighed. "Yes, sir," he said. "Or at least the possibility. Our investigations have been centred around the Olympus Gymnasium. Kitada-san here reported a lost-and-found poster on the notice-board there, for a cat which closely matches the description of the cat we're after—right down to the scarred forehead." 

"I have confirmation of that," said Midori, sliding a sheet of paper across to Takeda. 

Hiiro shot him an irritated look. "We confirmed the existence of the poster ourselves," he went on. "But the next day, it had been removed, and none of the gymnasium staff claim to know anything about it. We've been questioning clients and—" 

"Yes, yes, that's understood," said Takeda impatiently. "I've seen your reports. Get to the new developments." 

Masao caught his breath, wondering if Hiiro was going to reveal that they'd seen Artemis prowling around the gymnasium. To his relief, Hiiro avoided the subject completely. 

"Last Tuesday, the owner of the Olympus received a visit from three men. One of them was a known Sankaku agent." He slid a photograph across the desk. It showed three men entering a building. A ring was drawn around one of them. 

"And the other two?" inquired Takeda, studying it. 

"Unconfirmed. The man in front is Okuda Jiro, a security consultant. Reported as a Sankaku agent four years ago. He does occasional work for the Hoseki Property Group—" 

"Hoseki?" said Shiro sharply. "Damnation! Then—" 

"Yes, sir. There'd been a break-in at the gymnasium that morning, and their security contract is with Hoseki." 

"And Hoseki is owned by the Sankaku, but is ninety-nine percent legitimate," completed Shiro. "So the contact with them was quite possibly innocent. Is that it?" 

"Yes, sir," said Hiiro reluctantly. 

Takeda frowned. "So it's a false alarm, then?" 

Hiiro shrugged. "Probably. I've put extra surveillance on Hoseki, just in case, but I'm not really expecting to come up with anything." 

"After all, why would the Sankaku be interested in a cat in the first place?" put in Masao. "There's not much a bunch of criminals can _do_ with one, except maybe hold it for ransom…" He trailed off. All the others were exchanging glances. "What?" he asked. 

"The Sankaku are not precisely criminals," said Shiro carefully. "That is the image we prefer to give them, true, and the way they get reported in the news media. But while they support themselves through criminal activities, we are fairly sure that they have some other goal than the accumulation of wealth or power. It is possible that they are revolutionaries—" 

"Probable," said Takeda curtly. 

"Probable, then." Shiro's face showed how likely he thought that was. "The Sankaku are a group of three organisations—they call themselves clans. The three often work together, but they have their own separate leadership and methods…and, we suspect, their own agendas." He sighed. "Hiiro, you'd better give him some of the briefing papers on the Sankaku. It looks as though they may be helpful. This cat case is turning into a _nightmare_!" 

"Yes, sir. Kitada, the point to remember is that while we've managed to infiltrate the clans, several times, we've never gotten anybody into their very top leadership. We don't know _what_ they're after, but we're sure it isn't just money. And they've managed to infiltrate us a few times, too. So the situation is, we watch each other very closely. If the Clans know we're interested in cats—and we can be sure that by now, they _do_ know—then they'll be interested in cats as well." 

Masao shook his head. "But why _are_ we interested in cats?" he said plaintively. "Nobody seems to know!" 

A curious hush fell around the table. Shiro's face was quite blank. So was Hiiro's. Midori started to turn toward the head of the table, but stopped suddenly and stared downward. 

Finally, Masao realised just who had issued the order for the search. 

"So," said Takeda softly. "To summarise: we have a possible link between your investigation and the Sankaku. A dubious link, to be sure." He pursed his lips. "Under the circumstances, it would be safest to check it thoroughly. Colonel, do we have anybody inside Hoseki?" 

"Lieutenant?" said Shiro. 

"One moment, sir." Midori tapped an inquiry into his comm. "Ahh…yes, sir," he announced a few seconds later. "One Irregular." 

Takeda frowned. "Not enough. Colonel, I'm thinking that it would be a good idea to send a few teams in and clear out Hoseki thoroughly. Even if we don't find anything, it's always wise to cut the Sankaku back occasionally." Shiro raised his eyebrows, then nodded slowly. "Good. See what the Analysis section can come up with. It might be best to raid a few of their other fronts at the same time, to hide what we're really interested in." 

"Yes, sir. I'll let you have our proposals by…Wednesday?" 

"Good." Takeda stood up. "Well, gentlemen. Thank you for coming. Good to see you again, Shiro." He opened the door and strode out. The other three followed him more slowly.

- - -

Kitada sent downstairs with Midori to look through the latest briefing papers on the Sankaku. Hiiro remained for a few moments to speak privately with Colonel Shiro. 

"Very interesting," he murmured. 

"So it was," replied Shiro, equally quietly. "I'm most grateful to you for bringing Kitada in. I don't think I'd have dared ask that question. At least not quite as directly as he did…" 

"No." Hiiro smiled. "Kitada can be quite direct." 

"So how is he working out?" asked Shiro, raising one eyebrow. "The truth, not what you put in your reports." 

Hiiro shrugged. "The truth _is_ what's in the reports. He's working out very well. He doesn't have all the training he needs, of course, but he's bright and he's picking it up fast." He scratched his chin thoughtfully and added, "Actually, that's one of the reasons I brought him in today—so he could get a look at the other side of the business. When this job is finished, I'm going to invite him to sign on permanently." 

"Oh? Do you think he's likely to accept?" 

"Quite possibly. He does have an aptitude for thinking around corners…once he got over the shock, that is." Hiiro grinned. When Kitada had started, he'd been quite horrified at some of the underhanded techniques he was being taught. "He's been running a background check on one of the Olympus staff for a few days. Kuroi's monitoring him, but Kitada's doing quite well on his own." 

"Well, we'll see," said Shiro, shaking his head and grinning back. "For now…let's head down to my office. I'm going to want your input on these raids—" 

* * *

  

"Umm, I'm sorry," Beth said reluctantly. It was Wednesday lunch-break, and the group were gathered in their usual spot. "I can't. My Mom wants to get me some new clothes, and the way she goes about it, it usually takes hours. I'm probably going to be tied up all Friday evening." 

Nanako wrinkled her brow. "Are you sure? I already bought my ticket." 

"I'm sorry," Beth repeated with a sigh. "I told you already, yesterday. I can't." Curiosity made her add, "What movie is it?" 

"'Icewalker III'. Oh, come on! You've got to have seen the ads! You know—'He treads the wastelands of the Great Ice'…c'mon, you must have seen the first two in the series?" Beth shook her head nervously and Nanako looked pained. 

"That whole series is so stupid," grumbled Eitoku. "I mean, the whole world was asleep during the Great Ice. Everyone knows that." 

"They explained that in the first movie!" pointed out Nanako, irritated. "There was this stasis capsule that malfunctioned and—" 

"Oh, please, that is just so—" 

"Well if you think it's so dumb, why did you agree to come and see it?" 

As Eitoku spluttered and fumbled for an answer, scarlet-faced, Nanako turned to Iku. "What about you, Iku-chan? You've got to see this!" 

Iku looked taken aback, flushing an even brighter red than Eitoku. "Oh, no…I couldn't. I have a dentist appointment on Friday afternoon, and…I…I'm not going to be anywhere near…" She trailed off uncertainly. 

Everyone winced in sympathy. "Heckuva lot better excuse than yours, Beth-chan," muttered Nanako. 

"What?" said Beth. "But it's not—" 

She was cut off as the school bell rang. With a sigh, she shook her head and stood up, trudging back inside. The others, with their own various groans of disappointment and sighs of resignation, collected their things and followed her. 

Nanako hung back for a moment. As Beth and Iku walked on ahead, she glanced over to Eitoku and said, "You see? I told you it'd work."

- - -

Hideo crept out of the bushes after the two were out of sight. He was doing much better now; he was fairly sure that even Nanako hadn't spotted him today. He stood up straight, stretched, and began to brush the dead leaves and fragments of bark off his clothes as he, too, headed back in to class. 

A moment later he stopped, seeing something lying in the grass where the four had been sitting. He picked it up. It was a sheet of paper, crumpled and dirty. He stared at it for a few seconds, uncomprehending, then stuffed it in his pocket and ran off. 

* * *

  

Miyo lay in bed, listening to Miliko's regular breathing and trying to think. The last two days had been pure misery. Artemis wasn't talking to her. Dhiti seemed afraid to breathe when she was around, let alone talk. Her family acted as though she were made of glass— 

That last frightened her. Her brothers seemed to think she was going mad, and now that she was aware of it, she could see how gingerly her parents were treating her, too. They acted as if they thought she was made of gelignite. Only Miliko still treated her normally; the twelve- year-old didn't really seem to understand what was going on. She could see that something was wrong, though, and it clearly worried her. 

_Everyone's worried about me,_ Miyo thought bitterly. _How nice._

If she could just decide what to do…She sighed. They all had their ideas of what she _ought_ to do. _Relax and have fun._ _Be a normal sixteen-year-old._ But none of them were in her shoes; none of them could possibly understand— 

Well, perhaps Artemis could. He had the perspective. 

What he lacked was the _involvement_. He hadn't been there when she and Rei had fought. He hadn't heard what they'd said to each other; he hadn't felt the betrayal and the rage. He hadn't bled. It didn't matter how good his intention were; he didn't—he couldn't—know what he was asking. 

_Can't you see she wants to end this?_ he'd said. And Rei had virtually admitted the same thing, earlier. Miyo had been tempted, so tempted. It would have been so easy to let it go, to finally let it end… 

But no. Even today, even seven hundred years later, Rei hadn't changed. _I still have the scars, if you don't,_ she'd said. Still the same old Rei, as sarcastic, as aggressive as ever. Under the blankets, Miyo's hand crept up to touch her side. There were no scars there, not any more. Did Rei think she was inferior, because she'd been reborn? 

_Are you going to tell me that you just want to let it drop?_

For a moment there, she had wanted to. The thought of seeing an old friend, someone who could understand what she was going through, had been seductive. But then Rei had thrown it in her face. _She_ clearly wasn't prepared to forget, even if Miyo was. That cynical question—and then her casual accusation: _That's beside the point, isn't it?_ Oh so clever. Turning it around, casting the blame on _her_. 

How could she make her peace with someone like that? With someone who only paid lip-service to wanting to end the breach? 

_I'm scared that she __won't_ be sorry, she'd told Dhiti. That was only part of it, though. The truth was worse. The real truth was, she was afraid that if she tried to apologise, Rei might laugh at her. 

And yet— 

And yet, there had been that look in Rei's eye. 

_I need to know if you __can_ let it drop, she'd said. _Seven hundred years is a long, long time. Alone._ Miyo could almost believe that she'd seen sincerity in Rei's eyes in that moment. That she truly did want to let it end. 

If she dared—if only Rei could be trusted— 

"Oneesan?" 

Miliko's sleepy voice, from the other side of the room. "What?" Miyo answered softly. 

"Can you stop sighing all the time? You're keeping me awake." 

"Sorry," she said involuntarily. She heard Miliko mumble something, then turn over and resume her slow, steady breathing. 

Quite suddenly, the absurdity of it struck her, and she found herself laughing silently. So much pain and heartache…and all it amounted to was that she was keeping her little sister awake. How Rei would laugh, if she only knew… 

She stopped laughing as the implications sank in. _All it amounted to…_

Was that it? Could that be it? Could that be _all_? 

"Sorry," she whispered again. And realised that she was crying. 

Wasted. That _was_ it. All those years of rage and hatred…and it was all in vain. Wasted. What good had any of it done? What had it accomplished? 

Nothing. 

No-one else had ever even known about it. They had argued and fought and bled, and still, seven hundred and thirty-seven years later, nobody but them cared! What was the _point_? 

She remembered what Artemis had told her, a week before: _The only person messing your life up…is you._ Then and now, it was true. The more she fought Rei, the worse she hurt herself; but after so long, she was afraid to stop fighting… 

She clutched her pillow, soaking it with her tears. If she dared…if only she dared— 

Her last thought, before grey sleep finally claimed her, was of what she'd said to Dhiti on Monday: _What if it's too late?_ And Dhiti had answered, _What if it isn't?_

What if it wasn't? 

* * *

  

They came for her early on Thursday morning. Number Twelve was dozing fitfully in her tiny, windowless cell. She'd been locked there since Sunday, naked, with no food and little water. To lower the psychic defences, she supposed. This hadn't been necessary at her first initiation. She didn't like what that implied. 

When the key clattered in the lock, she snapped open instantly. Sitting up made her head swim for a moment, but she was ready and waiting for them when the door swung open. 

She did not try to fight or run. She knew how pointless it would be. Any such attempt would fail instantly: her legs would freeze, or suddenly go limp; the cloud would come down on her thoughts; and for a time she would not be _herself_ at all, but only an extension of the Master. 

That was what they were going to do to her again this morning. This time, though, it would be permanent. 

She stood obediently when they took her by the shoulders. She stumbled a little as they led her down the corridor; she was light-headed with hunger. They helped her patiently. 

She stole glances at them from the corners of her eyes. Numbers Two, Five and Seven. Always numbers. She knew their names, naturally, but within the Council they were always supposed to think of each other as numbers. Why was that? It made it harder to work with people, it depersonalised everyone…maybe that _was_ the point. The Master didn't much care for personalities. 

The floor under her bare feet was cold. The air on her naked skin made her shiver. 

They took an elevator down to the basement. It was colder down here. The lights were spaced a little too far apart, so that the corridors became a bewildering, semi-dark maze. Twelve was shivering constantly. She kept tripping over obstacles that weren't there. 

Down another interminable passage, and into a cramped changing room that was filled with racks of heavy clothing. Two, Three and Five dressed warmly, pulling on thick leather boots. They did not offer Twelve the chance to dress. 

Finally they left the changing room and stepped into another room, small and empty. It was like stepping into a freezer. There were actual patches of ice on the walls. Twelve wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering and trying to keep her teeth from chattering. 

At the rear of the room was a massive steel door, set in an otherwise blank wall. Its surface was coated with frost. The door, in some indefinable way, seemed to be the centre of the cold; it radiated a deep, bone-numbing frigidity. 

The chairman stepped forward as they entered. He was dressed as warmly as the others accompanying Twelve. He nodded briefly when he saw her, but his expression never changed. As the group approached, he held one gloved hand up toward the door. It swung open ponderously, with a faint tinkling of ice crystals. 

Beyond it lay a dark, narrow tunnel, perfectly round. Its walls had a curiously smooth, polished appearance, as if it had been melted out of the solid rock. It led sharply downward. 

Twelve was trembling constantly, but not from the cold. Her legs did not want to support her. She felt like throwing up…if only she had anything _to_ throw up. 

She closed her eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened them again she saw the chairman watching her quizzically. She took another breath and said, as calmly as she could, "Let's get on with it…Fukuda-san." 

His lips quirked in a half-smile. "As you wish…Araki-san." 

Her momentary bravado vanished as soon as she stepped into the tunnel. The stone was so cold that it burned; she felt her toes clenching, uselessly, against the fierce pain. She gasped and tried to step back. But there were hands behind her, forcing her onward, and she had no choice but to continue. She gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and took another step. And another. 

She heard the chairman stepping into the tunnel behind her. Then the door boomed shut. Instantly all light was gone. She was alone with the darkness and the cold…and the man who had put her here. 

The tunnel went down a long, long way. She'd been here once before, of course; but the last time, she'd been warmly dressed, and she hadn't been starving. This time, the journey seemed at least ten times as far. She knew she would remember it in her nightmares. If she ever had any nightmares again. 

In this icy blackness, she could easily believe that she would have nothing but nightmares. Forever. 

It was completely dark, and she had to feel her way. The air was dead, tasteless. The stone under her feet was smooth and slippery, and she fell repeatedly. Each time, she found it harder to rise; after four days without food, she tired rapidly. It was tempting to simply give up, to lie down and not move again. But that would not help, she knew. If she tried it, the Master would take control, moving her limbs for her; and whatever pain she was in now, that would be worse. 

On, and on, and on, further than she would have believed possible. After a while the pain in her feet seemed to fade, leaving only a dead numbness. At last, the descent came to an end. She saw a faint glow, far ahead—and then rounded a sharp bend at the bottom and stepped out of the tunnel, into a cave far below the surface of Third Tokyo…and into the presence of the Master. 

This was the very heart of the cold. This place seemed to draw in all energy, draining all heat, all life, leaving only a glacial emptiness. The air was painful to breathe. The cave was lit with a pale, dead, frigid glow, pulsing slowly as if to a monstrous heartbeat. 

When she looked down at herself, she saw that the skin of her hands and feet were white with frostbite. 

The chairman emerged from the tunnel behind her, took three steps forward, and bowed. Twelve followed suit a moment later. She felt the Master's contemptuous amusement rolling over her, like a wave of thick, cloying mist. 

A command formed in her mind. Her eyes widened and she stepped back involuntarily, her lips shaping a soundless denial. 

The command was repeated. There was no compulsion to it; it was only an order. But it would not be given a third time, she was warned silently. If she did not obey now, she would be given no option. And she would be punished. 

A quick vision of the chairman's gloved hands swam in her mind. 

Her head was swimming, her hands shaking with dread. The Master, the Master was everywhere, everything, suffocating her. She was weeping in horror and despair, but the tears froze almost instantly on her cheeks. She could not seem to breathe. Behind her, she heard the chairman turn and leave her to her fate. 

She raised her hands and stepped forward, and the Master claimed her.

- - -

Two, Five and Seven waited patiently outside the door. Seven paced up and down, clapping his hands to keep the circulation going and occasionally complaining about the cold. Two and Five stood silently, never moving. 

At last Seven stopped his pacing, blew out a breath in a cloud of mist, and said, "It's been three hours! How much longer is this going to take?" 

There was no answer for a moment. Then Two sighed and said, "Stop complaining. You know how far down it is. They may not even have gotten to the bottom yet." 

From his expression, Seven knew that perfectly well, but was not inclined to admit it. "What are we doing here, then?" he demanded. "She can't escape, we all know that. What good are we doing up here, freezing our a—our butts off?" 

Two shrugged. "We're here because we were ordered to be. What else do you need to know?" 

"Oh, don't go getting sanctimonious with me. All I want is to—" 

He stopped suddenly as Five stirred. "We're here as a reception committee," she said quietly. 

The two men stared at her. "Reception committee?" said Two. "For what?" 

"As a precaution." She shrugged. "It seems that it's possible the Master might decide to try a very…traditional approach to the Senshi problem." 

Seven glared at her. "What the hell does that mean?" 

She repeated the shrug. "The chairman didn't say. But the Master hasn't been this awake in centuries, from what I hear. The Senshi are appearing again, after all this time. Once the last one of them shows her face—" 

"When the last one shows her face," said a cold voice, "it will be time to finish what began seven hundred years ago." 

They looked around sharply. Just in front of the steel door, there was a sudden stirring in the air, a rippling. A patch of space seemed to twist, distort…and then a human form shimmered into view. A woman stared down at them in haughty derision. 

Number Twelve had changed. 

She was floating a few centimetres off the floor, for one thing. She was clad in a deep blue bodysuit, with boots of a slightly darker shade of blue. There were silver bracers on her wrists, and a thin silver belt was clasped around her waist. The metal glittered unnaturally in the light that came from her forehead. Her forehead— 

There was a crystal the size of a walnut, embedded in her forehead. It burned with an icy, pale light. 

"Number Twelve?" whispered Two. 

She rotated in mid-air, and stared down at him. Her eyes were cold and dead. "'Number Twelve'?" she said. "How prosaic. It might be more appropriate if you were to call me…Argentite." 

Two swallowed with difficulty. "A—Argen—?" he said, stumbling. 

She laughed contemptuously, a horrid, grating sound. "Perhaps not. 'Number Twelve' will do well enough, after all." 

She made an impatient gesture. "When your chairman reaches the surface again, tell him that matters are in hand." With that, she blurred and vanished. 

The three stared at each other for a few moments. At last, Seven gave a shaky laugh and said, "'Traditional approach.'" 

Two shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. "I don't know if the Senshi are in trouble…or if we are," he said. 

Five bit her lip. "I think," she said slowly, "both." 

* * *

  

Miyo walked slowly toward the Olympus. There were butterflies in her stomach; she felt sick with anticipation. She had been dreading this moment, and at the same time, longing for it. Would she be welcomed, or rejected? 

However this meeting went, she thought, when it was over, in a way, she would be free. 

Just getting this far had been difficult. Everyone kept _watching_ her all the time, and it had been hard to slip out, get away from her family. Who'd have thought a concerned family could be such a nuisance? Artemis would have been a big help, but she hadn't seen him for a day or so now. Well, sooner or later he'd show up. She hoped. 

(She remembered when Artemis had asked her: _Do you trust me?_ And, shame-faced, she'd answered, _No._ Now the boot was on the other foot. It was so funny, she could cry.) 

She stood in the street, looking up. The Olympus building towered over her. She eyed the letters cut into the stone over the main entrance, and wondered vaguely why Rei had picked that name. Or had someone else built it…? 

She was waffling, she finally realised. Trying to delay the moment. Clenching her fists, she turned sharply and stalked down into the car park. 

On the second level down, she stopped outside a plain, unmarked door in the rear wall. There was a combination, she remembered, looking at the keypad beside the door. Artemis had given it to her when she'd been here before, but she couldn't remember— 

_Wait._ She closed her eyes for a moment, and let her thoughts grow still. Her hand rested lightly on the keypad, unmoving. 

(As she lies on her bed, the white cat stares at her and says, _Miyo-san, just lie back, and relax. Relax…and remember._) (And they pause outside the door in the car park, and the cat recites numbers and she punches them in, wondering what she's doing here.) (And she's standing outside her house in the early morning, and he says, _How well do you remember?_) (And, _Really? You remember __everything_?) (And she stares into his eyes, and they seem to grow, swallowing up the world.) (And _Relax…and remember_) (and he recites numbers) (and relax…) 

(numbers) 

Her hand moved quickly, pressing the keys. 

The door clicked, and she pulled it open. Inside, in the stairwell, she rubbed her head, which was beginning to ache. That had been…harder than she'd expected. Artemis had opened a door in her mind that day, and it had never fully closed again; but trying to control it consciously was obviously going to take practice. 

Shaking her head to clear it, she started up the stairs. Three steps up, the reason she was here suddenly came back to her and she stopped dead. She didn't want to do this; she wanted to turn, run… 

She shook her head again, sharply. No. No more running. No more stalling. Time to put an end to it. 

Time to face the music.

- - -

"Captain?" said Mitsukai. "There's something happening inside. I think…it might be a burglar." 

"Oh?" said Hiiro, raising his eyebrows. "This could be interesting."

- - -

Itsuko yawned and stretched, and finished towelling her hair dry. Her last class of the day had been a bitch. She'd slept poorly the night before, and today her timing was slightly off and that had thrown the whole class off too. It had been a chaotic mess. Some of them seemed to enjoy the confusion—the younger ones, anyway—but even so, it was a bad precedent to set. 

It wasn't as though she _had_ to teach classes. The Olympus was turning a reasonably healthy profit, and she could have sat back and relaxed if she'd wanted, letting the instructors she hired take care of it all. And, she thought sourly, gone as crazy as a loon within two months, with nothing to do. 

Running a gymnasium wasn't a bad life. It was quite satisfying, mostly. But it sure wasn't what she'd had in mind for her life, way back when. 

The thought of 'way back when' brought Makoto—no, Miyo—back to her mind, killing her momentary good humour. Miyo, and the reason Itsuko had slept poorly last night. The last several nights, actually. 

Artemis had been back twice since he'd brought Miyo to see her. He'd apologised both times, but Itsuko hadn't had the heart to blame him anyway. From what he'd told her, Miyo had been in a pretty bad way that night. It didn't sound like she was doing any better now, either. If only she'd stayed and listened, just a few seconds longer…if only the commset hadn't gone off… 

Miyo had good reason to be upset, Itsuko thought morosely. _I wanted to apologise to her—and a fine mess I made of it!_ There had, after all, been some truth in the accusation Miyo threw at her. Old habits died hard. 

_What a pair of screw-ups we are! I've gotten too cynical…and she can't trust anyone any more…_

She finished dressing and walked slowly out of the changing room. It was after seven in the evening. She thought about heading back upstairs to eat in her rooms, but the idea of another evening up there alone was unbearable. She didn't want to eat in a restaurant, surrounded by strangers. That left— 

Well, that didn't leave too many alternatives at all, really. 

She had been alone for most of the last seven hundred years. Always moving around, taking identity after identity. Never daring to settle down for long, for fear that people would notice that she didn't age. Never daring let anyone get too close, for fear that they'd discover the other great secret she carried… 

The only one she'd been able to confide in, in all those years, was Artemis; and even that was difficult. They didn't really see eye-to-eye, and until recently he seldom visited. 

There'd been times when she'd thought about ending it all. Not many, but a few. But there was always the chance that, somehow, the Senshi would be reborn yet again. She held on for that. And even when, as the centuries rolled past, she finally gave up hope, there was still duty. The evil was still out there, somewhere. If it stirred again, someone had to be there to fight it. 

Now, of course, it was stirring again with a vengeance, and the Senshi had been reborn after all. So why did she feel worse than ever before? 

She groaned, walked to the stairs, and started up them slowly. There was still one, faint chance of reconciliation. Something she hadn't dared to try yet, because if it didn't work, the last hope for the two of them was gone. She could still give Miyo a comm call and plead with her, beg her to listen. She dreaded the idea, but if that was what it took—if that was the only way left to get through— 

As she opened her apartment door, she stopped suddenly. 

The lights were on. There was music playing. And the air was thick with a wonderful odour. Cooking smells…? 

As she watched, dumbfounded, Miyo poked her head out of the kitchen and said, "Hi! I thought you'd never get back. Come on in, the dinner's nearly ready." 

Surprising them both, Itsuko burst into tears.

- - -

"Hmm," said Hiiro, amused. "Well, I don't think that sounds like a burglar." He removed his earplug. "All right, false alarm. Stand down, Mitsukai." 

"Yes, sir." 

* * *

  

"Bendis!" exclaimed Beth. "You're back! Where've you _been_? I haven't seen you since Monday!" 

Bendis jumped in through the window. Her fur was dirty and bedraggled, and she looked tired. "Looking for that girl," she said. "I told you." 

"What girl?" Then Beth remembered. "Oh! You mean…" Her eyes widened. "Did you find her? Is she a Senshi?" 

"Yes," said Bendis wearily, "I found her…eventually. At least this time I knew which face I was looking for." 

"What?" 

"Never mind. I don't know if she's a Senshi yet, but I found out where she lives. I'll be able to check her tomorrow." Beth opened her mouth to ask another question, but Bendis wasn't finished. "In the meantime, there's something more important to take care of," she said. "Do you have anything to eat…?" 

* * *

  

Miyo and Rei ate slowly, sneaking quick looks at each other. After the initial catharsis, neither of them seemed to be able to think of anything to say. But it didn't matter, for now. The tension, the urgency, was gone. 

Once, Rei excused herself, a stricken look on her face, and hurried out. Miyo stared after her, concerned that something was wrong; but Rei came back a minute or two later, a small control pad in her hand. She manipulated it for a few seconds, holding a finger to her lips, then laid it down on the table with a sigh of relief. 

"What is it?" Miyo asked dubiously. 

"It's a—well, a safety policy." Rei shook her head. "Don't worry. I'll tell you later." She resumed eating, looking unconcerned. After a few moments, Miyo followed suit. 

Afterward, they carried mugs of coffee through into the living room. They sat, and exchanged nervous smiles. And then, finally, it was time to talk. 

"On Saturday I asked you, how've you been?" said Rei quietly. 

Miyo took a deep breath. "I've been—" She stopped, staring down at the floor. "Well, to tell the truth, I've been pretty shitty, for the last week," she said. 

Rei laughed mirthlessly. "Same here," she said. 

"I—" Miyo struggled to find the words she wanted. "Why?" she asked at last. "After all that time, why did you have to bring it up again?" 

Rei did not answer at once. "Because I was afraid," she said slowly. She looked Miyo in the eyes. "Seven hundred years," she said. "Seven hundred and—what? twenty-two years. It's a long time to carry a grudge." She looked away again, and took a careful sip of her coffee. "After a hundred years or so, I would have given anything to have seen an old friend again. Eventually, I realised that I'd have given anything to see you, too. I think that's when I found out that…none of it mattered to me any more. 

"And then you came back. And I was so afraid…" 

Miyo stared at her uncertainly. This was a side of Rei that she'd seldom seen: a Rei totally open; the Rei under the shell, as it were. Not wanting to break the mood, she said quietly, "Afraid? You?" 

"Me." Rei gave her a crooked smile. "When Artemis told me he'd awakened your memories…all I could think was, She's going to remember it all, we're going to start fighting again, and I just want my friend back…" 

She took a deep breath. "And then Artemis brought you up here, and took me by surprise. And I needed to know if you could…let it go, but it all came out wrong and…and oh damn, I didn't want to start crying again—" 

Miyo hesitated for one moment longer. Then she got up and went to sit by Rei, and took her in her arms. They clung to each other for some time, until Rei finally stopped shuddering. 

_All this time,_ Miyo thought bitterly, as she held her friend. _All this time, and I never thought that she might be hurting as much as I was._ Her own cheeks were wet with tears. 

At last she said quietly, "Can we…forget it all, do you think? Let it go, pretend it never happened?" 

"I don't think so," Rei answered. "I'd like to, but…I don't think that's possible." Miyo sighed, but before she could speak Rei went on, "Maybe the best we can do is…is to say, we both made mistakes. But that doesn't mean it all has to end. Maybe we can…go on anyway." 

"I'd like that," Miyo replied gently. 

Rei pulled away from her. "In that case," she said…and there was a definite glint in her eye…"supposing I give you a hand with the dishes?" 

Miyo almost agreed without thinking. But—"Excuse me?" she said, a challenge in her voice. "_Who's_ going to help _who_ with the dishes?" 

"Didn't you tell me, a couple of thousand years ago, that the cook always does the dishes?" asked Rei innocently. 

"No!" 

"Oh? I could have sworn that—" 

"Rei!" 

They stared at each other. The moment was deceptive; it was so much like old times, so familiar and comfortable, that it would have been easy to let it slide, to fall into the well-remembered patterns. And yet, here and now, just as they were edging back over the brink— 

And then, finally, Rei laughed. "All right. You help _me_, then. Come on, let's get this over with…" 

And Miyo let herself relax, and followed her into the kitchen. Maybe, just maybe, this could work after all.

- - -

And later, they sat back with fresh refills of coffee, and talked about everything under the sun. About what it was like, running a gymnasium of all things. (Rei laughed). About being back at school again, after all this time. About shoes, and ships, and sealing-wax, and cabbages and Kings… 

"After the Fall?" said Rei at one point. She made a face. "That was a bad time. You're lucky to have missed it." 

"No, really," Miyo prompted. 

"Oh." Rei shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It was, well…you must have gotten an idea in history classes. The whole world was falling to pieces. Everybody was starving, nobody knew how to do anything any more, and I wasn't much better off. I was hurt, and…" She shivered. "I headed for the evacuation camps, but I never managed to find them. Later on I heard they'd been overrun just after the Fall anyway. There were a lot of hungry people around… 

"Eventually I found a farm where they took me in, looked after me until I was on my feet again. They were having a hard time running it, but I did remember a few things—enough to keep them all alive for a while. They never asked if I was…you know, me…but I think they knew. 

"Then, after a couple of years, they were attacked by raiders, and tried to defend themselves, and all of them got killed, and I had to run." Shaking her head, she said, "It was like that for a long time. Decades. Eventually things settled down a little, but it was just, you know…look, I'd really rather not talk about it. Not tonight." 

"Why didn't you use your powers to help them?" asked Miyo softly. 

"My powers?" Rei stared at her for a long time. At last she said, "Come with me. I'll show you." 

She led Miyo through into her office, and carefully pulled the curtains shut. Then she opened her desk drawer and took out a small object. Tossing it to Miyo, she said, with an odd smile, "Recognise it?" 

"It's your henshin wand," said Miyo, puzzled. 

"Normally I keep it…well, hidden away in a safe place. But I saw myself holding it in a dream, last week, so I got it out again. Toss it back here." 

Miyo obeyed, and Rei stared down at it for a few seconds. Then, taking a deep breath, she held it up in a familiar gesture and shouted, "MARS CRYSTAL POWER, MAKE-UP!" 

Nothing happened. 

"Rei—" began Miyo, shocked. 

Rei's face was pale, and her hand was trembling. "It's been three hundred years since I dared to try that," she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "I didn't think it would…" She trailed off. "No. Never mind that. But I'm not Sailor Mars any more, Makoto…Miyo. I'm sorry." 

"Rei-chan, what happened?" 

"Not Rei," the other whispered. Then, louder: "Not that either." She looked up at Miyo sharply. A little colour was coming back into her face, though she still looked pale and shaken. "Do you understand? I'm not…what I was. I'm not Sailor Mars. And I'm not Hino Rei, either. My name is Itsuko now. Pappadopoulos Itsuko." 

Patiently Miyo repeated, "What happened?" 

Itsuko shook her head wearily. She looked old, in that moment; old and tired. "I don't know; I never…When I woke up, after it was all over, I found I was back in my—" she made a face "—civilian form. And I just couldn't change any more. I found my henshin wand nearby, but I couldn't use it. None of my earlier transformations worked. I even tried changing without the wand—you remember what a bitch that is—and I couldn't do that either. It just didn't…" She shrugged. "When Serenity died, maybe my power died with her. I don't know." 

"I'm so sorry," Miyo said softly. "I never dreamed…" Hesitantly she added, "Does it…hurt?" 

"Hurt?" Itsuko repeated. "To be cut off from the power? To be a…a pitiful _shadow_ of what I was?" Her voice was rising. "To know that there are people that need my help, and I can't give it any more? To know that now, especially, you need Sailor Mars back, and I can't do it?" She almost spat the words out. "_Hell_ yes, it hurts!" 

Miyo recoiled from the rage and the pain in her voice. Itsuko spun on her heel and stalked over to her desk, where she slammed her henshin wand back into the drawer. After a moment, in a tight, controlled voice, she said, "I'm sorry. This isn't turning out to be much of a reunion after all." 

"Any reunion is better than what we had before," Miyo said firmly. "Rei…no, wait. Itsuko. Are you sure it's permanent? If there's anything I can do—or Artemis may have some idea—" 

"I talked to Artemis about it, five hundred years ago," Itsuko said with a sigh. "He thinks I just…burnt myself out, in that last battle. It's happened before, apparently, in the Silver Millennium." 

Miyo raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about that. Sailor Neptune, the third one back before Michiru. She—" She closed her mouth suddenly, remembering that that Sailor Neptune had committed suicide. Not the most tactful thing to say, not now. 

Especially considering what had happened to Michiru herself. 

Itsuko didn't seem to notice, fortunately. She simply looked glad of the change in subject. "That's right. You remember all about the Silver Millennium, don't you? Artemis said." She managed a faint grin. "So, what was it like? What am I missing?" 

"Save your envy," Miyo advised her dryly. "It's just confusing. It was all so…different, then. Beautiful, wonderful, yes, but not like Crystal Tokyo. It's hard to relate that life to now. It just gets in the way…" She blinked. "In some ways, it's actually better now. Did you know that this is the first life when I've actually had a family? Both times before, I lost my parents. The first time around, I was only seven." 

Itsuko made a face. "Seven? What an age to lose your folks." 

"Well…yeah. But I didn't mean it like that. It's just, I think I'm actually better off, this life, than I've ever been. For a while there, after my memories came back, I didn't see that. But now I've had a chance to…you know, let things settle down…I really think I'm better off." She rolled her eyes suddenly. "Even if I _do_ have to go back to school, and be a kid again. I can handle that. And…well, even if my family _do_ think I've gone nuts." 

Itsuko raised her eyebrows, and Miyo flushed. "Um…well, you know. With three sets of memories, it's kind of hard sometimes to—are you laughing at me?" 

"Perish the thought," said Itsuko hastily, her face suspiciously stiff. "Let me guess. You've been acting strangely, and saying all sorts of incomprehensible things in front of them—" 

"You don't have to put it like that—" 

"—and it probably doesn't help that you disappear at odd hours, to go and fight as Sailor Jupiter, right?" 

"No, I've been okay there, actually—" Miyo sighed. "You're right, though. That's going to be a problem, sooner or later. And then, this last week, things have been kind of rough, and my brothers caught me talking to Artemis, and I was kind of upset, and…" 

Itsuko nodded slowly. "If there's anything I can do…?" she offered. 

Miyo smiled. "Actually, I think I'm going to be all right on that count…now," she said. After a moment, Itsuko smiled back.

- - -

And later yet: 

"Why did you pick Papa—Padapo—Pappado—whatever it is?" asked Miyo, with some difficulty. 

"Pappadopoulos," Itsuko said easily, with a grin. "'Cause it's such fun to hear you trying to say it, why else?" 

"No, seriously." 

"Really? Oh, well…I can hardly go using my real name, of course. Have you _seen_ that awful viddy program? Just imagine what it'd be like if everyone knew who I was. I'd never have another moment's privacy, I'd be buried alive in…" Itsuko blinked. "Mind you, it might be really good for business—" 

"Rei—" 

"No, no. Itsuko, remember? Dangerous to get that wrong. Well…I've had a lot of identities, over the years. Usually I try to pick something a little oddball. If people think I'm weird to start with, it covers up a lot of mistakes I could make. Being half-Greek is handy, since none of the Hellenic enclaves survived. And I learned a bit of the language, a long time back. It's like a false nose." 

Miyo was not quite sure she'd heard correctly. "A false nose?" she said cautiously. 

"Yeah. You know—if you want to disguise your face, you wear a big false nose. Or something like that. Everybody's too busy looking at your nose to see the rest of your face at all." Itsuko blinked at her. "Right?" 

"So…everyone's too busy thinking you're weird because you're Greek, to notice that you're weird in other ways too?" Itsuko nodded. "That has got to be the silliest idea—" 

"But it works! Really! Maybe I'll try being German next time; I think I could fake that—" Itsuko broke off, shaking her head. "What can I say? It's a pain in the ass. Every twenty years or so, I pretend to die, then go off and start again as someone else. It's getting difficult, creating a new identity, but I have some contacts—people I've done favours for, over the years. It's…" She shrugged. "It's how I live." 

"How long have you been here, then?" asked Miyo, suddenly concerned. 

"I'm about due for a change, actually. The last few lifetimes, I've been trying to hold onto this building, which makes it harder, but…I figure I'll go on holiday and have an accident. Something like that. My niece, who lives overseas, will inherit. In a few years, enough to blur people's memories of me, she'll come back and move in. She'll look a little different from me—maybe I'll let my hair grow again—and she'll talk differently. I'll have to shut down the gymnasium first, of course—that's a shame, but there's too much chance people might recognise me. And then…" 

She sighed. "Who am I kidding? That's what I'd been planning to do. But I can't move on, not now. Not with this new Senshi crisis coming on. I may not be Sailor Mars any more, but I think I can help a little. I hope. And anyway, it's…" She hesitated. "It's dangerous to attract attention, at the moment." 

Miyo sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing. "Dangerous? What do you mean?" Something made her add, "Is this anything to do with that 'safety policy' gadget you had before?" 

"In a way. Yes." Itsuko stood up and walked over to the curtained windows. "About two weeks ago, Artemis was here. We think somebody saw him…and recognised him." She turned, and saw the expression on Miyo's face. "Yes. This place is under surveillance. I don't know who it is. You probably saw on the news, there were some odd anti-Senshi feelings out there for a while? Well, the majority opinion seems to be pretty positive at the moment, especially since that fire, but I'd be surprised if all that distrust has just vanished. There are a lot of whackos in the world. I sent Artemis away, and he's been very careful when he comes back—" 

"So that's why he made me come in by the car-park entrance." 

"Yes." 

"But—I mean, have you thought that they might have…" Miyo trailed off, fumbling for words. 

"Bugged me?" Itsuko smiled at Miyo's dismay. "Oh, yes. The suite is bugged, all right. The rest of the building probably is, too. That's what my 'safety policy' is for. It sends a false signal—blocks the bugs, substitutes an innocuous conversation for whatever is actually happening. Don't worry, it's safe to talk." 

"Safe?" demanded Miyo. "How can you call it 'safe'? How can you just stay here, knowing somebody's watching you—" 

"Calm down. In the first place, they're _not_ watching me…I hope. They're watching for Artemis, and if he stays away, sooner or later they'll quit watching. Or ease off enough for me to get out, anyway. That's the second point: the worst thing I can do is to panic. That really _would_ attract attention, and attention is the last thing I can afford." 

"Damn." Miyo shook her head. "I wouldn't like to be in your shoes." 

Itsuko snorted. "Well, I'm not exactly happy about it, either. And I do have one or two ideas about dealing with it, but there's nothing I can do right now. The important thing is that as long as I stay calm and act normally, I'm probably safe." 

Miyo wrapped her arms around herself, shivering unconsciously. "I'd been thinking…well, hoping…that maybe we could meet here. You know, me and…the others. You could sit in, too, of course. But now, well…" She smiled feebly. "I guess not, huh?" 

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Actually, that could still work, you know." Miyo started to protest, but she went on, "Think about it. The Olympus is a natural meeting place for teenagers. A couple of the smaller rooms at the back get used in the evening by local clubs right now. Nobody'd look twice at a new group that started coming in." 

"You think so?" Miyo started to look hopeful. 

"Sure. I mean, you wouldn't be able to have training sessions here; that'd be asking for trouble. But if you want somewhere where you can get together and talk things over, that's no problem." Cocking her head to one side she added, "You'll need some kind of cover, though. Right now people could be a little _too_ interested in a group of girls who're total strangers but suddenly start meeting together." Then she grinned. "I do have a few schemes in mind—" 

"You sound just like Minako," said Miyo, a little nervously. 

"Mako-chan! That's a horrible thing to say!" They both laughed. "All the same," Itsuko went on, "what do you think?" 

"Well—" Miyo shrugged. "I'll check with Artemis, see what he says." She shot a look at Itsuko. "Um, does this mean I can tell Dhiti-chan who you are?" 

Itsuko hesitated, her eyebrows raised. "Let me think about that, okay?" she said at last. 

Miyo did not try to hide her disappointment. "Okay," she said reluctantly. She added, "There's probably not much point just yet, anyway. Not with only two Senshi." 

"Two?" asked Itsuko, frowning. "Don't you mean three?" 

"Eh? No, I—oh. You mean Sailor Venus. But we still don't know who she is." 

Itsuko laughed. "Tell Artemis to get a move on, then. The sooner he tracks Bendis down, the better." 

"What? Tracks her down?" 

"Hasn't he told you yet? Typical. He and Bendis…well, no. I wouldn't want to spoil his story." She laughed again. 

"Oh, come on, you can't just drop hints like that! Please!" Miyo folded her arms sulkily. "You're just like him, you know—always picking on me…" But at that point, she could no longer keep the glare up, and had to start laughing herself. "Oh, it's so good to be able to talk to you again," she said with a sigh. 

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Likewise," she said. "Though it does have its downside, too. For example…have you noticed what time it is?" 

Miyo glanced at her watch and yelped. 

"And it's a school day tomorrow, too," said Itsuko mock-sympathetically. 

"AUGH! MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO KILL ME!" Miyo suddenly became a whirlwind of activity, frantically gathering up everything she'd brought with her, and trying to find where she'd hung her jacket when she came in. Itsuko sat back and watched her, enjoying the impromptu Usagi imitation. After an amazingly brief time, Miyo sprinted out the door, with a hastily muttered "Bye!" 

A silence fell in the suite. Shaking her head in amusement, Itsuko started to clear up the coffee mugs and plates of snacks they'd gone through during the evening. There was a sudden knock on the door and she looked up, startled. 

Miyo poked her head back through the door. "Um…" she said hesitantly. "You mind if…well, I mean, could I…well, would you mind if I came back, you know, tomorrow or something?" 

Itsuko smiled. "Kino Makoto, you are welcome here any time. Day or night. You should know that." 

Miyo's face split into a broad grin. "Yeah…yeah! Thanks!" 

The door slammed and she was gone. 

* * *

  

Bendis prowled through the streets, following a tall, slim girl. It was early Friday evening, and her prey was out of school uniform. Her clothes looked expensive, though she seemed to have a taste for dark, gloomy colours. 

She was definitely a Senshi. Bendis had finally managed to touch her for long enough to be sure. 

The question, as it had been with Beth, was which Senshi she was. Bendis was pondering ways and means of finding out. She had, regretfully, abandoned her idea of using the same tactics she'd tried before. Beth's cautions about pianos notwithstanding, she was sure that the idea was basically sound; but she had an uneasy feeling that the girl might not see it the same way. 

There had to be a better way of doing this, she thought irritably. Why couldn't she have waited a few months before getting into that argument with Artemis? There was so _much_ he'd never taught her… 

The girl turned a corner, and Bendis hurried a little to keep her in sight. She was keeping her distance, trying not to be noticed, but it did make it harder to keep an eye on the girl. Where on earth was she going, anyway? The streets were getting crowded, it was becoming awkward to dodge feet. 

_Suzue,_ she thought. Have to remember that. _Itagaki Suzue._ At least she finally knew her name. 

The girl slowed a little, and Bendis finally saw where she was heading. A movie theatre, covered with big, gaudy posters. She stifled a groan. _This is going to be awkward,_ she thought, as Suzue stepped inside.

- - -

"I don't know about this," said Dhiti, looking up at the posters dubiously. "It doesn't look that good." 

"Oh, come on," said Kin impatiently. "The first two in the series were terrific! Anyway, just a couple of weeks ago you were talking about how _much_ you wanted to see it!" 

"Yeah, what's up, Dhiti-chan?" said Miyo, grinning at her. "I'd have thought you'd enjoy a movie with so much ice in it." 

"Stick it up your nose, Hayashi," Dhiti grouched. She studied the posters for 'Icewalker III' again, and tried to hide her misgivings. It wasn't that the animation didn't look good. It was just that… 

"At least you look a bit more cheerful today," she said, not wanting to complete the thought. 

Miyo smiled. "I got some good advice from a friend, and I took it," she said, throwing a quick glance down at Dhiti. 

"Oh, it was nothing," said Kin modestly, polishing her nails on her blouse. "Any friend would have done the same." 

"_You_?" said Miyo, startled. "What are you talking about? You told me to pull the sock out of my ass!" 

"Hey, that was good advice! The way you were acting—" 

"Good advice? That's the sort of advice I'd expect from my worst en—" Miyo stopped suddenly, and looked thoughtful. "Actually," she said slowly, "come to think of it, maybe that _was_ good advice." 

"You see? No-one ever listens to me till it's too late," said Kin mournfully. Then she stole a sly glance at Miyo. "Mind you, in your case it was probably more like a _pair_ of socks…" 

Miyo giggled. "More like a _dozen_ pairs," she snickered. 

Dhiti winced, and put her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear this," she said loudly. "I am _not_ listening to this…" 

"Hmm." Kin looked up at her sidelong. "And I wonder just what _you've_ got stuck up there today?" 

"Look, let's just get the tickets, all right?" said Dhiti hastily. She hurried toward the ticket stand, and the other two followed her, still giggling. 

As she stood in line, Dhiti wondered what was the matter with her today. Normally she'd have been the one making the off-colour suggestions, and Miyo would have been pretending to be outraged. But then, Miyo had been acting bubbly all day; it was clear that, whatever had been bothering her (and she still wouldn't say what that was), it had finally been resolved. So, if one of her best friends was happy again, why was Dhiti feeling out of sorts? 

She scowled, feeling like a fraud. The truth was, she knew perfectly well what was wrong with her today. She'd been feeling depressed ever since Kin arrived. Kin, and her news that Liam had asked her out on a date. 

It wasn't fair. Dhiti had said that once before, but suddenly it was starting to seem real. Kin and Liam were clearly interested in each other, and she was fairly sure that Mark and Miyo liked each other too, even if they were both a little too weird to have admitted it yet (and the idea of Mark dating someone who was, in a sense, thousands of years old was pretty weird in itself)…and that left poor old Dhiti all on her own, and wasn't _that_ a sucky feeling. 

And then those damn posters had to show Icewalker with his arms around Tsurara, the woman of the Ice Folk, in a classic pose. Just to rub it in, as it were. 

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought glumly as the three trooped into the theatre, if she at least had any prospects. But she'd never really met a boy she'd been interested in. There'd been a few sniffing around her, from time to time, but none of them could keep up with her. She was, it seemed, as slippery as ice. 

"Come on, Dhiti-chan," said Miyo as they squeezed past a boy and girl holding hands to get to their seats. "It can't be that bad." 

"Can't it?" said Dhiti, looking down at the couple. "If you say so." 

Rather to her surprise, the girl she was stepping past looked up at her and said, "Excuse me, but did she say your name is Dhiti?"

- - -

• Energy trace detected   
• Analysis: Silver Millennium [prob 91.175%]   
• Hypothesis: ?? Mercury Computer [prob 46.483%]   
• Trace obscured. Query ?? subspace pocket [prob 69.026%]   
• Tracking 

Smile.

- - -

"Excuse me," Nanako said to the dark-skinned girl who was treading on her toes, "but did she say your name is Dhiti?" 

The girl looked down at her, clearly taken aback. "Yes," she said after a moment. "Why?" 

"Oh, nothing," said Nanako easily. "Sorry. I thought I recognised you for a moment." 

The girl, Dhiti, stared down at her for a second longer, as if she were crazy, then shrugged and moved on down the row. 

"What was that all about?" asked Eitoku. 

Nanako hesitated. "Oh…just someone I didn't expect to be meeting here," she said finally. She squeezed his hand, and felt him squeeze back. "Hush, now. The movie's starting."

- - -

Bendis crouched under an unoccupied seat, and tried to keep one eye on Suzue and one eye on Icewalker. It wasn't easy; she kept getting distracted by the action onscreen. She wondered if she should try to call Beth somehow, then remembered that Beth was out with her mother tonight. 

Well, it probably didn't matter. She'd just sit here and enjoy the movie, and worry about Suzue afterward.

- - -

It was a pretty good movie, Suzue thought. She watched as Icewalker and his little band of allies from the Ice Folk mounted their assault on the Frost Fortress. Unbeknownst to them, Icewalker's true love Tsurara had broken into the fortress by night, disguised as a man, to confront the evil wizard, Shimo, who'd killed her parents. But Shimo had taken her younger brother Hyoga hostage, and she was forced to throw down her weapons or see him die. At the critical moment, Icewalker burst into the throne-hall, and while Tsurara rescued her brother, he engaged Shimo in furious battle. They launched massive attacks at each other: Icewalker hurling his trademark fiery bolts at Shimo, who responded with whirling clouds of energy-sapping ice crystals, and frigid bombshells that burst into hails of razor-sharp ice shrapnel. In no time at all, the Fortress was crumbling into ruin from the force of their battle, shattered by massive explosions— 

A _real_ massive explosion went off, right inside the theatre. 

For a few confused seconds Suzue could not see, blinded by smoke and dust. Then she managed to make out the screen again. There was an enormous hole in it. Standing in the hole was a— 

A monster? 

Some kind of…of creature. Vaguely manlike, but immensely tall and thick, its body all angles and planes. Light from the movie projector reflected off its skin, making it glitter with a madly-dancing rainbow of colours. Or was that skin? It gleamed; it looked as though it were made of ice. 

_How appropriate,_ she thought vaguely. 

Then the creature moved: swiftly and surely, with none of the awkwardness she would have expected. It leaped forward toward the movie-goers. Most of them just sat and watched, stunned. This couldn't be a publicity stunt, could it? 

It raised an arm, and brought it down on the first row of seats. Fortunately, nobody was sitting there. A fraction of a second later, the seats weren't there either. There was an indescribable shattering sound, and the air was filled with splinters and flying pieces of wreckage. Suzue heard somebody scream in pain. 

The monster threw its head back and let out a roar: a deep, resonant bellow, thoroughly chilling. Finally, panic began to set in. People began to stand up, shout. Then, in one frenzied rush, the whole audience seemed to make a single, mass dash for the doors. There were more screams as people were crushed or trampled underfoot. 

Suzue sat tight. Partly it was because she was waiting for the crowd around the doors to clear. Partly it was because her legs didn't seem to want to support her. She felt…strange. Faint. She hunched herself back, trying to avoid the monster's attention. 

She wondered why she did not feel afraid. The fear was there, yes, but it was as it it were sealed away. She was trembling, but not because she was afraid. She felt an urge to…to _do_ something, but she had no idea what. 

The creature smashed more seats, then stood still for a moment, moving its head back and forth. As if looking for something, she thought. Something, or someone? Then, to her horror, it stooped down, picked up an armful of wreckage, and threw it with terrific force. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still a lot of people clustered around the doors, trying frantically to get out. The wreckage smashed into them. Suzue was fairly sure that she saw blood splash. She heard screams of agony, and several people fell. Apparently encouraged, the monster roared again. 

As it made its way further down into the theatre, still blasting out its challenge, she poked her head around the corner of a seat to get a better look. 

That was a mistake. 

The movement must have caught its attention. It swung in her direction. She squirmed backward, horrified, but it had clearly seen her. She almost thought she saw a gleam in its eyes—but that, surely, was hyperbole. Surely? 

It stepped toward her, and raised one enormous fist. She scrambled back again, retreating seat by seat down the row, never daring take her eyes off the thing. Step by step, seat by seat, it followed her. Then she felt the wall at her back. 

Nowhere to turn, nowhere to run. No way out. She was going to die. 

She felt a sudden burning sensation on her forehead. 

And at that moment, a voice rang out across the theatre.

- - -

"I am Sailor Jupiter! Movie theatres should be places of innocent entertainment, not bloodthirsty butchery!" 

"I am Sailor Mercury! Er, what she said! We are the Sailor Senshi, and on behalf of the planet Mercury—" 

"—And the planet Jupiter—" 

"We'll punish you!" they chorused. 

Mercury stole a glance at Jupiter out of the corner of her eye. "I am _so_ embarrassed," she muttered. 

"Can it," murmured back Jupiter. She raised her arms and shouted, "SUPREME THUNDER!" And with a roar of energy, the bolt lashed out and caught the vitrimorph squarely in the chest. It bellowed in what might have been pain, and reeled back. 

"It's glowing again," said Mercury. "Why do they _do_ that?" 

"Maybe you should scan it and check?" 

"Umm, not right now," gasped Mercury, leaping frantically to avoid an armful of rubble hurled at her at what looked like supersonic speed. She took aim and shouted, "ICE SPEAR!" 

The vitrimorph dodged her shot with uncanny quickness. Then, to her shock, it took aim at her and let out a roar that almost sounded like it had words in it. And a bolt of pale-yellow energy leaped out from its hand, straight back at her. 

She ducked, barely evading the shot. As it passed her, missing her arm by no more than a centimetre, she felt its blazing heat. "I think we're in trouble," she gasped. 

"No kidding," grunted Jupiter, dodging another bolt. They dived behind a row of seats and wormed their way along frantically. "Did you notice, though?" Jupiter added in a low voice. "It looks more vulnerable than the last one. It's dodging more, and my lightning seemed to hurt it." 

"Uh…right." Mercury _hadn't_ noticed. "Hit it from two sides at once, then?" she suggested. 

"You got it. Let's go!"

- - -

Bendis followed the vitrimorph down the row of the seats, keeping to the shadows, as it advanced toward Suzue. She was burning to help somehow, she was pretty sure that she could distract the creature before it got to the girl…and yet, the girl herself would be more help than anything, if only she could take her Senshi form. If she only waited a second longer… 

There. The vitrimorph raised its arm to strike…and a symbol burned on Suzue's forehead. The symbol of the planet— 

Bendis blinked. She certainly hadn't been expecting _that_. 

Never mind. Now, at last, she knew; finally, she could act. She gathered herself to spring. She would hit the creature on the shoulder, distract it, make it turn away, give the girl a chance to escape while it went after her instead. _Piece of cake,_ she thought smugly, carefully ignoring the rather strong possibility that she'd be seriously hurt herself. 

And at that moment, a voice rang out through the theatre. She looked around, startled. Sailor Jupiter announcing herself, followed a moment later by Sailor Mercury. How had _they_ gotten here so quickly? Never mind. They were throwing their attacks; the vitrimorph was moving away, distracted; now was her chance to act— 

She looked back to where Suzue lay, her planet symbol still bright on her forehead. But there was someone else there too. And Bendis screamed in outrage. 

"Noooo! Not _now_!"

- - -

Artemis found a sunny spot outside the theatre to doze in while the girls went inside. He'd been following Miyo, staying out of sight, since her outburst on Saturday. Just in case, he told himself firmly. He'd seen that she had made things up with Itsuko, and was glad, but all the same…he didn't really feel that he wanted to talk to her again, not just yet. Cats had feelings, too. 

When he heard the explosion, though, and the screams that followed it, he forgot his anger immediately. There was trouble, and that, in the end, was all there was to it. Miyo might know what she was doing, but Dhiti was still pretty green…and the hell with pride. He streaked into the theatre. 

It took him a little time to get inside without being trampled by the rush of escaping people. By the time he made it, Miyo and Dhiti had already gotten out, changed, and were heading back in. He followed behind them, watched as they began their attack on the vitrimorph. 

When Mercury suggested they split up and hit it from opposite sides, he started to call out a suggestion of his own. Then, suddenly, he froze. There was something else in the theatre—a strange feeling, almost familiar somehow. 

Finally, he recognised it. Another Senshi? Here? 

He ran down the aisle, looking right and left. At last, near the front, he saw her. A girl lying against the wall, her skirt up around her hips, her hair wild around her terrified face, and on her forehead shone the symbol of— 

He blinked, astonished. _Uranus_? 

He shook his head, and started toward her hastily. Time to ask the obvious questions later. For now, he had to give her her henshin wand, so she could transform and help the others— 

Then, from behind him, he heard a wail of rage and frustration. "Noooo! Not _now_!" 

He whirled—to see the absolute last person he'd expected to find here. 

"It's not fair!" Bendis hissed at him. "I found her first!" 

"B-bendis?" he stuttered. Involuntarily, he took a step toward her. Her eyes widened; instantly, she spun around and fled. 

Torn, he watched her go—wanting to follow, knowing it was too late. She'd been faster than him for a good while now, and he had no chance of catching up. But oh, how he wanted— 

Never mind. Right now there were more important things to worry about. 

He ran back to the girl's side. She stared at him as he approached her, and flinched back when he spoke. "Are you all right?" he asked gently. 

After a second or two her mouth moved. "Wh-what—" she began. 

"I'm sorry, but there's no time to explain," he said. "You're just going to have to trust me. Here—" 

He spun about madly, stretching out with his will for what he wanted. After a second, it came. The henshin wand fell to the floor with a faint clatter. He nosed it toward her. "Take it," he said. 

Hesitantly she reached out and picked it up. "What—I don't understand—" 

"Hold it up, and say the words, 'Uranus planet power, make-up.'" 

She stared at him. "This is some kind of silly dream—" 

He stole a quick glance behind him. Jupiter and Mercury were still playing cat-and-mouse with the vitrimorph, but which of the two sides was cat and which was mouse seemed to be debatable. It looked like a stalemate, and in battle that was a very dangerous position. 

"Just do it!" he urged the girl. "The others need your help!" 

She, too, stole a glance out at the battle that was raging. "This can't be happening," she whispered. But then she took a deep breath. She gathered herself, stood up smoothly, raised the stick toward the ceiling, and cried out: 

"URANUS PLANET POWER, MAKE-UP!" 

The power descended. It lifted her, held her in its grip, etching out around her a circle of energy. The circle flared—a sudden burst of light, a ghostly web of force, taking her, claiming her. Shifting the universe around her, making her what she had to be. The brightness was too much; he had to close his eyes. Then it collapsed; the glare winked out, the figure within spun to a halt. 

The Senshi of the Sky stood before him. 

She looked down at herself. "No, not _me_," she wailed suddenly. "It can't be _me_!" 

"Sailor Uranus," said Artemis, softly but very clearly. "The others need your help." 

"But—" She closed her eyes. "All right. I'll try."

- - -

Bendis' first reaction had been fury. After all the effort she'd put in to find Suzue, now Artemis was just going to waltz in and take over? Talk about injustice. Then, when he started toward her, she panicked. It was blind instinct. She had a very good idea of just how upset he was going to be with her, and she was not at all eager to face that. Not yet. Not ever, preferably, though she was uncomfortably aware that there would have to be a reckoning someday. 

So, she ran. Down the aisle, and out through the hole that the vitrimorph had blasted in the rear wall. And outside, blinking in the late sunlight, she stopped, and tried to think what to do next. 

Call Beth, was her first reaction. The more Senshi the better when fighting those things, as far as she could see. But there were two problems with that. First, she had no idea where Beth was—she had a vague memory that the girl was going out shopping this evening. Second, Beth didn't have a Senshi communicator. _Now why didn't I ever think to give it to her before?_

So Jupiter and Mercury were on their own with this one. Oh, and Uranus of course, she thought bitterly, once Artemis finished awakening her powers. Damn him! 

Then she remembered that Artemis really _would_ have his paws full with a new Senshi. And Jupiter and Mercury could certainly do with some hints, since they hadn't had the benefit of her training. 

And really, she thought ruefully, there was just no way she could run away from a fight. 

Muttering a curse, she turned and dashed back into the theatre.

- - -

Sailor Jupiter was still going strong, but Sailor Mercury was beginning to flag. She ducked out of sight for a moment to gasp for breath, shaking her head frustratedly. She just didn't have the stamina for this kind of fight. 

This blasted monster was quite different from the others. It didn't seem to be orienting on either of them, for a start. The last two had picked on one Senshi and attacked her persistently, all but ignoring the others. This one seemed happy to attack at anyone. Maybe that was because they'd come in together? And then those shots it fired—they were hard to dodge, and it could do them so fast! It took her a couple of seconds to get off an Ice Spear, but this thing could fire two or three shots in the same time. 

Hitting it from two directions at once had been a good idea. The trouble was, so far they'd been unable to manage it. It seemed to have an instinct for their tactics; whenever they began a simultaneous attack, it appeared to sense it and dodge in plenty of time. It had taken a couple more hits, and they seemed to have hurt it, but not enough. It was moving noticeably slower than when the fight began, so perhaps they were wearing it down. The question was, who would wear down whom first? 

She crouched down behind a seat, dodged along the row a little way, and stole a quick glance over the top. The vitrimorph was roaring and clutching its shoulder, where Jupiter had just managed to clip it. _Way to go, Hayashi!_ she thought. Taking a quick breath, she stood up and prepared to fire off her own shot. But at that moment, someone else decided to join the fight. 

"MUSIC OF THE SPHERES!" 

It sounded like the faintest chiming of bells. There was a faint glow in the air, stretching out from the palm of the girl who'd shouted. If the theatre hadn't been darkened, Mercury was sure she'd never have noticed it. And suddenly, her teeth ached. _Some kind of sonic attack?_ she wondered. 

Who on earth was that who'd cast it? 

Whoever she was, whatever she'd just hit it with, it was having an effect. The vitrimorph seemed frozen in place. It almost looked as if it were vibrating. She was sure that the steam coming out of its ears was her imagination, though. 

The newcomer dropped her beam suddenly and sagged back, as if exhausted. Well, Mercury could sympathise with that. She'd lost count of the number of Ice Spears she'd cast this evening, and she was about ready to sag too. And that beam had looked pretty potent. 

Who on earth—And where had she come from? 

The vitrimorph was starting to move again. No time for idle speculation. Mercury threw her Ice Spear and leaped for more cover before the enemy could retaliate. As she landed she saw her attack strike home; the vitrimorph was still moving too slowly to dodge it. This time when the Ice Spear hit there was a sharp cracking sound, and she saw splinters of crystal fly. 

"Looks like Uranus seriously weakened it," said a voice. "That gives me an idea." 

She looked around, but for several seconds saw nothing. Then, finally, she made it out: a small cat, with the full moon on its forehead. It was a tabby, almost invisible in the darkness. 

"Who are you?" she said stupidly. Then: "Wait a minute. Bendis, right? Good! Is Venus here?" 

The cat didn't take her eyes off the vitrimorph. "She can't make it. Look, when Uranus attacks again—" 

"Uranus? Sailor _Uranus_?" 

"Shut up and listen! Get ready to attack. When Uranus hits it again, throw your Spear at the same time." 

"Right. That might work. What about Jupiter? We need to get her to hit it too—" 

"No! It's the physical impact that's going to do the damage! Her thunderbolt might just fuse it back together!" 

Mercury blinked. _Great,_ she thought, _now I've got to start studying physics._ Wait a minute, though, maybe the idea did make a kind of sense? "Sonic attack," she said slowly. "I…see. I think." 

Bendis glared at her. "Well, stop thinking, and get ready to attack! Honestly, what's Artemis been teaching you?" 

Mercury opened her mouth to reply, then carefully closed it again. _That's one uppity cat,_ she thought. All the same, she realised grumpily, it did have a point. 

She sneaked a peek over the row of seats. Jupiter was manoeuvring around for another attack. There was a streak of blood on her face. _When did that happen? No, Hayashi, stay down, let us handle it—_

"MUSIC OF THE SPHERES!" 

Mercury jumped up and roared out, "ICE SPEAR!" 

The two attacks struck home. And then the air was filled with flying crystal shards. 

When Mercury could see again, she looked over to where Bendis had been standing, to thank her. But the cat was gone.

- - -

Jupiter stood up slowly, rubbing at a dozen new cuts on her arms and face. She'd been standing entirely too close to that explosion. Pity they didn't have Hotaru here— 

And who on _earth_ was that new Senshi? 

The three of them trudged toward each other, carefully brushing shards of crystal out of their hair and clothing. She finally got a good look at the newcomer, and recognised her colours with a start. 

"Sailor Uranus, I presume?" she said. It wasn't Haruka, though. She felt a sudden pang. Another old friend lost. 

"Umm. I suppose so," said Uranus. She looked dazed and tired. "This is all so—it's just—" 

"Yeah, I know." Jupiter managed a weary grin. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it. Listen, we ought to—" 

"Sailor Uranus, I presume?" said Mercury, hurrying up to them with a smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Mercury—I guess you've met Jupiter…" 

Jupiter scowled at her. "Dhiti-chan, this is no time for—" 

"How touching," said someone. A cold, grating voice. They looked around wildly, but there was nobody in view. Then, almost as one, they looked up. 

There was a woman hanging in the air. Jupiter had a sudden sense of déjà vu. How many times had she seen this scene played out…? 

"A reunion of old friends, I see," the woman said. She was dressed in midnight blue, with silver trimmings at her waist and wrists. The steady flickering of the movie, which was still, inanely, playing on from the projection booth, made it hard to make out her face. It could not, however, disguise the enormous glowing jewel embedded in her forehead. 

"And now there's another one of you," she continued. "How sweet." 

Jupiter scowled up at her. "Who are you, and what do you want?" 

"'Call me Ishmael.'" The woman's laughter was like a buzz-saw cutting through crystal. "And I want…I want…the Moon. On a platter." 

"You're crazy," said Mercury, shocked. 

"Am I? We shall see…when the Moon is full." The woman laughed again. "In the meantime, you seem to have won the day, so I must be going. Rest assured, little Senshi, we will meet again." She raised one clenched fist, and they saw something glittering attached to her wrist bracer. "I guarantee it." 

"Don't jump to conclusions," Jupiter called out. "SUPREME THUNDER!" 

The levinbolt lanced out, catching the woman by surprise. It was not aimed at her, though. It struck the object on her wrist squarely, with a shower of sparks. 

The woman in blue stared at her wrist in shock. The device that had been mounted there was shattered, ruined. Blood was dripping from where it had been. 

"The unkindest cut of all," she whispered. Then she raised the wound to her mouth and sucked it. When she lifted her head again, her lips were stained red. She grinned. 

"Bravo, little Senshi," she said. "Another victory. Enjoy it while you can." She bent her head to the wound again, and as she did so, the air around her seemed to shimmer. In another moment, she had vanished. 

"I think I'm going to be sick," muttered Mercury. 

"Save it for later," Jupiter advised her. "Right now, we've got another problem. I recognised that thing on her wrist. It was a tracker; she probably used it to find us here." 

"So?" 

"So…it was Crystal Tokyo technology. And none of that works any more. So how was she able to use it?" 

They both stared at her: Mercury in growing dismay, Uranus in utter confusion. "You mean—" began Mercury. 

Jupiter shook her head, suddenly tired. "I don't know what I mean. For now, I think we should get out of here, and go somewhere where we can talk." She winked at Uranus. "It seems introductions are in order."

- - -

Nanako watched them leave from her hiding place in the back row. When they were safely gone, she stood up and stretched, brushing a thin sprinkle of crystal fragments off herself. 

"That," she remarked to nobody in particular, "was _much_ better than the viddy program." 

She had seen the Senshi at last! And a new one had appeared! They'd called her Sailor Uranus—such a pity that Nanako had been looking the other way when she changed… 

Oh. And Jupiter had called Mercury 'Dhiti.' So, that theory was confirmed. _And I actually spoke to her when she wasn't transformed. A Claver…I think I'll recognise her when I see her again…_

She made her way out of the theatre, humming softly to herself. _Now, should I tell Hideo about this or not?_ she wondered. 

Out on the street she started to look around for Eitoku. They still had a date to finish, after all. As she hunted through the crowd who were still staring at the theatre, she bumped into Iku, of all people. The girl looked as if she'd just run a marathon. Nanako debated telling her an edited version of what had just happened, but at that moment she finally saw Eitoku, a little distance away. Well, Iku could wait. 

The rest of Nanako's evening was very enjoyable, in quite a different way. 

* * *

  

Artemis ran quickly through the streets, his mind whirling. So many unexpected things, all cropping up at once. Sailor Uranus…Bendis…a new enemy…and of all things, functioning Crystal Tokyo technology! 

He had followed the three girls out of the theatre, watching them just long enough to make sure they got away safely. He expected they were heading for Miyo's or Dhiti's house. Good, that should be safe enough. It gave him time to carry out his own errand. 

He reached his destination, finally: the Olympus building. Now, if only Itsuko could tell him what he needed to know… 

He made his way up to Itsuko's suite. This took some effort; he could not reach the keypads to get into her private stairwell, so he had to follow quite a circuitous route. It was an embarrassingly hackneyed solution, but sometimes ventilation ducts actually _did_ work as access ways. 

A little over an hour after he left the theatre, he dropped to the floor in Itsuko's kitchen and stood for a minute, panting. Then he set out in search of Itsuko herself. 

She was in the living room, watching the news on the viddy. She glanced up as he nosed the door open. When she saw who it was, she raised her eyebrows silently and tapped a key on her control pad. Then she nodded. It was safe to talk. 

"I take it there was something about us on the news tonight?" he asked. 

"A battle at a movie theatre. They didn't have many details. Was there some kind of problem?" 

"Not exactly." Artemis hesitated. "Itsuko, this may sound strange, but…have you seen Setsuna lately?" 

"Setsuna?" Itsuko said, looking taken aback. "No, I haven't. What on earth do you…?" She broke off, considered, and then said slowly, "It's funny you should ask, though. I'd always thought she died back during the Fall. But then, about a week and a half ago, I saw her in a dream. So maybe…" She shook her head. "I don't know. Why do you ask?" 

"Umm. It may be nothing. But, well, I was hoping you'd know how to get hold of her—" 

There was a knock at the door. 

They exchanged glances. That hadn't been the door to Itsuko's suite; it had been the door to the living room itself. 

"Come in," Itsuko called. Her hand reached down under a cushion and took hold of something. A weapon? Artemis prepared himself for action. 

The door opened, and a tall, beautiful woman with long, green-black hair walked calmly into the room. She gave them a curt nod. "Rei, Artemis," she said. "I believe you wanted to speak to me."

- - -

Itsuko managed to close her mouth after…not more than a year or so. "Setsuna," she said. "What—how—" 

"I'm using the name Fumihiko Sadako, at the moment." The newcomer sat down gracefully, without waiting for permission. "And I believe you're now calling yourself Pappadopoulos Itsuko?" 

"Yes, I…" Itsuko finally managed to gain control of herself. She released the weapon she'd been holding. "Yes, for the last twenty years or so. How did you—no, wait a minute, that's a stupid question—" She took a deep breath, and calmed herself with an effort. "Uh…hello." 

Sadako regarded her with cool red eyes. Then, suddenly, she smiled, and the tension in the room seemed to vanish. "Hello," she responded. "You're looking well, Itsuko…Artemis." 

"Looking well?" The cat snorted. "Set—Sadako, you can't just walk in like this! Where have you _been_ all these years!" 

Sadako lifted an eyebrow. "Doing my job," she said. 

"Oh, that's helpful—" 

"Let's get to the point," she suggested calmly. "I don't have a lot of time to spare. Artemis, you wanted to see me about something. Well, here I am." 

"Oh…yes. Umm." Artemis looked flustered, and Itsuko wondered just what had happened at the theatre earlier. "Well, we…we found a new Senshi today." 

Itsuko blinked. Sadako simply cocked her head at him. "Ah. That would be the new Sailor Mars, I assume?" 

"No, it—dammit, Setsuna, that's pretty cold, even for you!" 

"Oh?" Sadako looked back to Itsuko. Itsuko simply stared back at her, trying to keep her face perfectly expressionless. It wasn't easy; that question had hurt. A lot. 

"Itsuko," said Sadako gently. "You knew this was coming. You knew that the torch had to pass onward." 

After a moment, Itsuko bowed her head. "Yes," she said. "I knew it." There was more than a trace of sarcasm in her voice as she added, "Forgive me if I can't…accept it quite as easily as you." 

"I have to accept many things. Don't make the mistake of thinking I enjoy it." Itsuko looked up hotly; but Sadako was no longer paying any attention to her. "You said it was _not_ Mars?" she said to Artemis. 

The cat stirred. "No. It was…ahh, it was Sailor Uranus." 

"Uranus?" repeated Itsuko, startled. 

Sadako's face became very still for a moment. At last she said, "Ah. That would be your great-granddaughter's doing, I suppose? How very enterprising of her." 

"Umm, yes…she was there, but she ran for it when I arrived." 

"Your family relations are not really my concern." Sadako almost looked as if she were suppressing a smile, but it was hard to tell. "What _is_ your problem?" 

Artemis took a deep breath. "Are you going to want to take command of her? The Outer Senshi have always been, well, almost a separate group, usually taking their orders from you. I mean—" 

"I know what you mean. Hmm." Sadako cocked her head in thought. "It won't be necessary," she said at last. "That role for the Outer Senshi is no longer required. Go ahead and take her into your group." 

"What?" From his surprised look, Itsuko realised that he'd been hoping for this, but hadn't expected to get it so easily. "I mean…are you sure? The Outer Senshi—" 

Sadako shrugged. She was definitely smiling now. "If there were a Sailor Moon you could ask her, of course. She would have the ultimate authority." 

Itsuko sat up straight and glared at her. "Oh, please. Is that some kind of hint? Damn it, why can't you ever answer a simple question, or just come out and say what you mean? For heaven's sake, you came here to talk to us—so talk! What happened to you after the Fall? Where have you _been_? And…is there going to be a new Sailor Moon or not? Or did Serenity manage to send herself forward somehow?" 

Sadako shook her head. The smile was gone. "If you want predictions, try a fire reading. Don't ask me to be your oracle; the future is too delicate a web for me to risk that way. You know that." 

"Yeah, that's what you always say," Itsuko grouched. "But you're still the one who can pop forward whenever you want and see what things are going to be like. Do you call that protecting your 'delicate web'?" 

"I call it irrelevant." Sadako's tone was cold. "I am no longer able to travel in time." 

"What!" Itsuko and Artemis stared at her. "What happened?" asked Artemis, horrified. 

"The Gate of Time is sealed. I no longer hold my talisman. I am bound in time now, just as you are." 

"But…how? Why?" asked Itsuko. 

Sadako sighed. "The Fall had many repercussions. Some of them were far worse than this. You might consider the loss of the Ginzuishou, for example. In any case, I am not completely powerless. I still see the probabilities, the branching of the world-lines. I can still guide events, with some difficulty. But I am undeniably…less than I was." 

Itsuko said hesitantly, "So…you don't know how all this is going to end up? What the future's going to be like, this time?" 

Sadako's expression was grim. "I know how it _must_ end up. If it does not, there _is_ no future. But the path…" She shook her head slowly. "The path is unclear. The world-lines are blurring. I can see only a little way." 

"But—" 

She stood up suddenly. "Enough. Artemis has his answer, and you have…perhaps more than was wise. And I cannot afford to delay. I must go." She started toward the door. 

"Wait!" cried Artemis. Sadako looked back. "At least tell us where you're staying," Artemis suggested. "Where can we contact you, if necessary?" 

Sadako gave him a cool smile. "Don't worry. I'll be seeing Itsuko again, before very long." She closed the living-room door behind her. 

The cat and the woman stared at each other for a long moment. "Well," said Artemis at last. "That was—" 

"Wait," said Itsuko suddenly. "Wait a minute." There was one more thing she had to say to Sadako—to Sailor Pluto—before she lost her nerve. Something that she'd been thinking about for quite a few years now. 

She opened the door and ran after Sadako, catching up with her just as she woman was opening the door into the stairwell. Sadako raised her eyebrows as Itsuko ran up, but did not speak. 

Itsuko took a deep breath. "We always used to wonder about you," she said. "How it must feel, just…surviving on like that. I mean, you've never said how long you've been—doing what you do—but…" She stopped, fumbling for the words. 

"Yes?" Sadako's expression was unreadable. 

"It's just…after the last seven hundred years…" Itsuko let out a long breath. "I think maybe I have an idea what it must be like for you. I just wanted to say that." 

"Seven hundred years?" The Senshi of Time gave her a long, thoughtful look. Then she shook her head. "Wait twenty times as long again. Then you can tell me that." 

Itsuko stared at her. "That's how old you are?" 

"No. But it will give you an idea of the perspective." Sadako closed the door behind her, and was gone. 

* * *

  

Suzue walked home slowly. She felt dazed. She had spent the last hour at the house of Sharma Dhiti…who, it seemed, was Sailor Mercury. The real Sailor Mercury, not a fake after all. 

And she had been talking to Hayashi Miyo, who was Sailor Jupiter. Another legend brought to life. 

And earlier at the theatre, she had unmistakably met Artemis. _The_ Artemis. 

And they had told her that she was one of them. 

This was all impossible. Unthinkable. Dreadfully wrong. 

_What do I do now?_ she thought, bewildered. _Oh, Holy Mother, what am I supposed to do now?_

She walked up the path to her front door and let herself inside quietly. She almost forgot to remove her shoes; that was how confused she felt. She went through to her room, nodding to her parents as she passed the family room. 

At the door of her room she hesitated. Then she left it, unopened, and went on to the door at the end of the passage, and into the family shrine. 

It was small and simple, as was fitting. Theirs was a small and humble faith. She bowed to the altar, dipped her finger in the little bowl of oil, and sketched the sacred mark, the crescent, on her forehead. Then she knelt down before the altar and tried to pray. 

It was no good. The words wouldn't come. 

She raised her eyes to the painting on the wall above the altar, the painting of her goddess. And in her heart she cried out to her: 

_Oh, Holy Mother—oh, blessed Lady Serenity—what am I supposed to do __now_? 

**S A I L O R   M O O N   4 2 0 0**  
**END OF CHAPTER SEVEN**

**Next:** A conspiracy is unmasked; so is a Senshi; and a training session goes horribly wrong…

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

And so we reach the one-third mark in this story. Seven chapters down, fourteen to go. 

It wasn't intended to be this big when I started. I began with a very simple idea: what if Crystal Tokyo didn't last nearly as long as nearly everyone expects it to? The usual assumption seems to be that once CT is founded everyone will live happily ever after. There are exceptions, of course, and a few stories have shown a CT that is hardly a paradise. But still, Utopia or not, CT is generally held to be the endpoint. 

But, I thought, what if Crystal Tokyo were destroyed? Perhaps the story would have to begin all over again. Some of the faces might be new, and some of them might be the same old ones, reborn yet again. A fresh start, in a distant future that's a mixture of the familiar and strange. (And in this chapter, we finally get a glimpse of how and why that future was shaped.) 

Where does it go from here? 

Well, the enemy behind the Serenity Council still hasn't quite shown its face…and there's still the mystery of who or what destroyed Crystal Tokyo in the first place. A lot of questions (though not all) will be answered in chapter 9, when the story of the Great Fall is finally told. From there, the story continues to build up to a climax in chapter 12, and thereafter takes a change in direction, developing toward the ultimate confrontation with the Enemy. 

A few miscellaneous notes: 

— Probably my biggest regret on writing this is that in most cases I was not able to choose character names with the same level of meaning that Naoko Takeuchi did. A few characters do have names that were picked for a reason, but in general where someone has a particularly appropriate name, this is accidental. 

— It's an unfortunate coincidence that the name of Third Tokyo sounds rather like the Tokyo-3 of "Neon Genesis Evangelion". But a coincidence is exactly what it is. ("Second Tokyo," if you were wondering, was Crystal Tokyo itself.) 

— These chapters seem to be getting longer and longer. I'm sorry. I'd like to say they're going to drop back to a more reasonable length, but I can't. (I thought this one was going to be relatively short, and it ended up the longest to date!) 

Thanks to my pre-readers, Sandy Drobic and Bob Schroeck. 


	9. Chapter 8: The Fifth Element

**What has gone before:** In the year 3478 Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the invaders. Civilisation fell; a new dark age began. Now, in the year 4200, a new world order has risen, centred on the city of Third Tokyo and ruled by the shadowy Serenity Council.

Artemis survived the final battle; now he and his great-granddaughter Bendis are searching for a new generation of Senshi. Shortly after they argue and split up, Bendis discovers the new Sailor Venus: a girl called McCrea Beth. For his part, Artemis finds the new Jupiter and Mercury—Hayashi Miyo and Sharma Dhiti.

Miyo is actually Kino Makoto, now reborn in her third lifetime. When Artemis tries to awaken her memory of her previous life, he accidentally restores her memory of the Silver Millennium as well. Miyo has problems coping with three sets of memories, and her family begins to worry.

When the new Senshi appear, the Council, who were already hunting for Bendis, create "vitrimorphs"—crystalline monsters designed to hunt and kill Senshi, under the command of Twelve, a Council member who was given strange powers by the unseen Master who rules the Council.

Meanwhile other survivors of Crystal Tokyo have also become involved: Pappadopoulos Itsuko (formerly Hino Rei) and Fumihiko Sadako (once Meiou Setsuna). Itsuko, now powerless, is the owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. The Olympus comes under Council investigation when Artemis is seen there and to preserve the secret of her past, Itsuko requests help from an old friend with criminal connections. But this only makes the investigators more suspicious.

The first exploits of the Senshi are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction: some people hate them; others want to worship them. When Bendis locates the new Sailor Uranus, Itagaki Suzue, they do not realise that she is a member of the Church of Serenity.

Meanwhile, without Beth's knowledge, two students at her school learn about Bendis, and work out that Beth is Sailor Venus; and one of them is looking for the identities of the other Senshi as well…

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER EIGHT  
The Fifth Element:  
Aspects of Exile**

- - -

Beth went out early on Sunday morning to get some exercise. It seemed appropriate to her new lifestyle. She wasn't entirely sure how effective it would be—could developing her "normal" body affect her Senshi one?—but it seemed worth a try. And anyway, it was a beautiful morning, clear and crisp, and she was glad to have an excuse to be out.

She jogged for a few minutes before slowing to a brisk walk, still pondering the question. She wasn't too out of breath; but then, she didn't think she would have been if she'd done this before she became a Senshi. So was there a difference or not?

Her Senshi form was certainly developing. Sailor Venus had been marvellously strong, fast and agile from the beginning; but Bendis' constant "training" sessions had produced a very noticeable difference. When she'd started out, she'd had trouble jumping up onto the roof of a building. Now she performed acrobatics that, frankly, scared her a little, when she thought about them afterwards. Fortunately it never seemed to bother her when she was actually doing them.

But was that a physical development, or was she just getting used to her new abilities? Sometimes it was so confusing.

She started to run again, trying to put the question out of her mind. Life was getting too complicated lately. Best to enjoy the quiet moments when they came.

She smiled to herself, remembering the night before. That certainly hadn't been quiet. Her mother had taken her out shopping for clothes. Really, she was more than old enough to go by herself, but shopping with her mother was too much fun to pass up. McCrea Helen was a sober, sensible, serious woman…most of the time. But when she went shopping, she changed. She became a whirlwind, a dervish, with a wild glint in her eye that said that she had a credit wand and she wasn't afraid to use it. The sort of customer, in short, that shopkeepers either longed for or dreaded. Or sometimes both at once. With Helen it was quite often the latter.

It didn't matter that they didn't actually buy very much, or that what they did get was quite reasonably priced. It was the process that mattered. The _shopping_ process.

So they went from store to store, up and down street after street, poking through dusty shelves, trying things on, comparing prices, talking and laughing; and for one evening Beth forgot everything that had happened to her lately, forgot all about vitrimorphs and Moon Cats and Senshi, forgot even about Eitoku, and became her mother's daughter again. One evening of grace.

There was that odd interlude, though. In the middle of it—this part might be just a dream she'd had last night, but she thought that perhaps it was real—they stopped for tea, and for a moment the sober, sensible McCrea Helen was back. She looked at Beth quietly for a time, and then said, "Beth, dear, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Beth looked back at her, puzzled, and said, "About what?"

Her mother smiled softly. "Nothing, dear. That's all right." She sipped her tea, and then added, in an oddly reflective tone, "Remember to be careful, Beth. That's all."

Beth sat staring at her, trying to decide if she had been talking about Beth's mostly-theoretical boyfriend or about…something else. She rather thought it was something else, but she could not work out how to ask…

And then her mother jumped up with a wink and a smile, and they were off, out of the little cafe and down the street, window-shopping and bargain-hunting as before, and Beth's memory of the evening after that became choppy and disjointed, so that she thought now that maybe that odd moment _was_ a dream; or at least she hoped it was, because if it wasn't, it suggested that her mother knew things that Beth didn't see how she could know, and that meant—

She jogged around another corner, shaking her head and frowning faintly. She could not complete the thought. 'Trouble,' perhaps. After a few minutes she gave up.

She ran onward. The morning was beginning to heat up, and her forehead had broken out in a light sweat. Tomoe Park was not too far away, and she decided to stop there for a few minutes.

As she approached the park, she checked her watch. It was still fairly early, and there wouldn't be many people around. It was tempting to change—to become Sailor Venus and climb into the trees, leaping from branch to branch and playing in the cool green shade. Maybe chasing a few birds. If Bendis had been with her to keep watch she might have tried it, but as it was it was too risky.

(Something inside her said: chasing _birds_?)

She walked through the park for a few minutes, cooling off, then stopped to sip from a drinking fountain. Then she walked on, still looking up at the trees. It really would be nice to go for a climb today. She hadn't been tramping lately, and a chance to really stretch herself would be—

But of course she couldn't do that. She couldn't go swinging through the trees; Venus was the one who did things like that. Sometimes it frustrated Beth. Sailor Venus got all the fun. She was everything that Beth didn't dare be…

…Still, why not? She glanced around, looking for a private spot to change. A moment later she realised what she was doing, and forced herself to stop, shaken.

What had she been thinking of? It would be madness to change here! The park was nearly empty, but there were a few people in view. And Venus wouldn't care who saw her; she'd just want to enjoy herself…

(But it _would_ be fun.)

With a sigh, she turned and started out of the park again. If she was going to get some…more exotic exercise, she couldn't do it here. But there was a place she could go, one that she and Bendis had found some time ago. A group of old, abandoned warehouses in the factory district not too far away. The property was fenced off, but of course fences didn't bother Venus. She could leap about all she liked there, practise acrobatics, swing from the rusting old industrial cranes—even try target-shooting with her Love-Me Chain at the metal drums that had been left in one of the loading docks. It was, in short, an almost ideal training ground (or at least Bendis thought so); and right now, it was just what the doctor ordered.

She jogged through the streets for another twenty minutes. As she entered the warehouse district, she slowed a little, keeping an eye out for anyone else in sight. At last, when she came in sight of her destination, she stopped, glanced around quickly, then stepped into an alleyway to change.

A few seconds later, Sailor Venus jumped up onto the roof of one of the building adjoining the alley, and stood for a moment, getting her bearings. Then, with a chuckle of anticipation, she sprang forward, bounced lightly off the roofs of two other warehouses, and landed in a yard that was lined with rusting machinery and piles of rubbish.

She stood motionless, looking around, planning her attack. Then she let out a yell, fired her Chain at her chosen enemy—an inoffensive boiler—and dove for cover before it could fire back. The next few minutes were very vigorous ones.

- - -

"She's back," said Yoshimitsu, peering cautiously out of the window.

Takamori came over to take a look. His usual mournful expression was replaced by a faint smile. "Will you look at the way she moves," he whispered. Outside, Sailor Venus demolished another implacable foe.

"Been a few days," Yoshi remarked. "I was starting to think she'd found somewhere else."

"Keep your voice down! You want her to hear you?" Takamori did not take his eyes off the Senshi outside. He frowned. "Are you sure we shouldn't report this to the company?"

Yoshi shrugged. "What for? She's not doing any harm here." There was a crash of falling metal from outside. "Much," he amended.

"We're _supposed_ to be caretakers—"

"Oh, relax. As long as we keep our mouths shut, who's to care?" Yoshi blinked. "Besides, if we raise a fuss she'll stop coming."

Takamori sighed. "You have a point there." He raised his camera to get another shot. All his pictures had come out blurred so far, but he was persistent.

- - -

Venus killed another few enemies, then got bored with the shadowplay. She sat down on a wooden crate, wiped the sweat out of her eyes, and thought about what to do next. She wasn't ready to go back home yet, but what else was there to do?

She looked around the warehouses. Pity none of them were really very tall. She could do with more practice climbing buildings, but the tallest one here was three stories, and she could _jump_ that high. Well, nearly. It was a shame that Bendis always got nervous when she wanted to climb office buildings…

Idly, she wondered what was inside the warehouses. They were all locked securely, and most of their windows were too dirty to see through. She stood up and wandered around the courtyard, peering at the buildings. The windows on one of them did look a little cleaner than most. She started toward it.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She looked around, startled, to see a small tabby cat some distance away, watching her. "Bendis!" she exclaimed. "There you are! Where have you _been_?"

"Here and there," said the cat evasively, stepping delicately toward her. "Are you busy? We need to talk."

- - -

Takamori breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought she was going to find us there," he whispered, as Venus moved away from their window again.

Yoshimitsu nodded, wiping nervous sweat from his face. "It's that talking cat again," he muttered, returning to the window.

"Wish I could hear what they're saying," grumbled Takamori.

"Me, too. What did Sailor Venus call it? _Bento_?"

- - -

"So what happened?" asked Venus, sitting down and stretching. "Did you find that girl? Was she a Senshi?"

"Yes," said Bendis. She sounded annoyed. "I found her. She's a Senshi, all right. Sailor Uranus."

"Uranus?" Venus blinked. Bendis had said that with some emphasis, as if it were somehow significant. What was special about her being Sailor Uranus? Well, she was bound to find out sooner or later.

"Oh," she said. Then she grinned. "So what's she like? When do I meet her?"

The cat looked pained. "Not just yet," she said, shaking her head. "She's going to be training with Artemis for a while."

Venus stared at her. "Her _too_?" she said. It felt like a slap in the face. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't she ever get to work with the others properly? She didn't even know their names yet! It was as if there was some kind of conspiracy against her. It was as if—

Hey, wait a minute.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said out loud. "Of course! Now I get it!"

"Get what?" Bendis looked worried for some reason.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Venus demanded. "I mean, I did notice, you know. I'm not stupid."

"B-beth—"

"Jupiter and Mercury just weren't all that good at fighting. Back when we were being chased by that Opal, neither of them even knew how to jump the right way! All that training we've been doing…you—" She bent down and picked Bendis up, rubbing her fur affectionately. "You've been giving me the advanced course, haven't you?"

- - -

Bendis stared up at her. She'd seen Venus do some pretty bizarre things before, but this was a new high point. Or maybe a new low point.

"That's just so cool!" Venus laughed, spinning gaily around in a circle. Then a new thought seemed to occur to her, and she stopped suddenly, her voice becoming serious. "But don't you think the others could use the training too?" she asked.

"Umm…" said Bendis, lost for words. "Beth—"

"Hey!" Venus tapped her tiara. "Sailor Venus, remember? You'll give my secret identity away!" She blinked. "I wonder if Moon Cats have secret identities? Hey, Bendis, what should I call you when we're out fighting those crystal things? Maybe—"

Bendis coughed. "I don't think that's necessary," she said hastily. Best nip this one in the bud, or she'd end up having to call herself Sailor Neko. She shook her head slowly. "Maybe you're right," she said, half to herself. "Maybe this _is_ the advanced course. I wonder which of us is supposed to be the student…?"

"What?" said Venus, confused.

"Never mind. Look, there's something else I remembered yesterday, while I was out. I need to give you your communicator, so you can call the other Senshi if you need help."

It would also, of course, put Beth in contact with them at other times. Giving it to her was a risky move—if they got talking, Artemis was almost certain to find her—but there was, she'd finally decided, a limit to how far she'd go to protect her independence. Being able to fight the enemy effectively was more important.

Not that there wasn't a chance she could stay free for a little while longer, she thought. "This is for emergencies only," she told Venus sternly. "_Not_ for casual gossip. Understand?"

Venus nodded humbly enough, but her eyes were alight with anticipation. Bendis breathed an inward sigh. The girl was going to want to play with it, she could see. Oh, there was a chance that, if she stressed it enough, she'd be able to bully Venus into not using it; but Beth was another matter. Beth would _think_ about it, and sooner or later she'd talk herself into trying it out.

_It can't be helped,_ she told herself. _This is necessary._ She took a deep breath and leaped up, turning a backflip in mid-air. As she came down again, she listened confidently for the clatter of the communicator falling to the ground.

"Umm, is something supposed to happen?" asked Venus.

"What?" Bendis stared behind her, perplexed, at the spot where the communicator should have lain. She was certain she'd done it right; she'd practised it any number of times, back when Artemis was teaching her. She couldn't perceive the subspace interstices the way he could, so she had to open the pockets by rote; but she was sure she hadn't done anything wrong.

"Try it again," Venus prompted.

With a shrug, Bendis tried. Several times. There was nothing. She found herself wondering if it had ever been there to start with. But Artemis had been so positive that he'd retrieved all the Senshi's equipment and put it into storage after the Fall…

"Er…sorry," she said at last. "There's something wrong. It's not there, for some reason. It's as if…uh, I don't know, actually. I think you'll have to go without for a bit longer, until I can work out what the problem is."

"Maybe Artemis might be able to help you?" suggested Venus. Bendis looked up sharply, but the girl's expression was perfectly innocent. Too innocent, perhaps.

"Maybe," she answered grudgingly. She found herself wondering if Artemis might have already retrieved the missing communicator. But why would he do that?

It also occurred to her that she could pull out another Senshi's communicator, and let Venus have that for a while. Sailor Saturn's, perhaps. In the end she decided not to, though. Not until she had a better idea of what the problem was.

_Damn,_ she thought. _I really ought to talk to Artemis about this._ It was almost funny. For the first time in weeks she actually wished she could see him again—but she had no idea where to find him. For once, she was in his position.

Mind you, there were options. She could talk to Suzue, for example. The new Senshi probably knew where to find him. Or, she had a vague memory that there was some kind of backup contact point, though she didn't quite recall where.

She could just imagine what he would say, though, if she slunk back to him looking for help…

"I'll look into it," she promised. Then, deliberately changing the subject, she said, "In the meantime, there're some new training exercises you need to try. You need practice in attacking a target that shoots back."

"Shoots back?" Venus cocked her head. "Since when do cats have to deal with that? No, wait a minute, you get shoes thrown at you, right?"

Bendis looked at her.

"Umm, yeah. Okay. Shoots back. So is this, like, a gun, or a death ray, or a…a small leather object…or a ki-blast, or a jet of acid that we're being shot at with here?"

"Er," said Bendis. "For now, let's pretend that it's some kind of energy bolt. But keep that acid thing in mind, huh? You never know who might be getting nasty ideas."

- - -

After the Senshi and the cat left, an hour and a half later, Takamori stood up and stretched. "I was starting to think they'd be here forever," he said.

"So what are you complaining about?" inquired Yoshimitsu, grinning. All the same, he stood up as well, rubbing his back. "What was she doing there, anyway?" he wondered. "All that dodging and rolling and stuff. And when she kept grabbing her shoulder and shouting, 'Ahh! Got me!' That was weird."

Takamori shrugged. "Who knows?" He held up his camera. "Whatever it was, I got some good pictures of it."

"Bet they come out blurred like all the rest," said Yoshi.

-

* * *

-

Suzue sat in her room, staring at the framed pictue on the wall. She had had plans for the weekend, but none of them seemed to matter now. She had too much to think about.

_I'm a Senshi. This isn't right, this has to be a mistake. Doesn't it? It can't be me! Holy Lady Serenity, why did You choose me?_

The picture, a photograph of Queen Serenity from the Archives, looked back at her and did not answer.

She wondered what the Intercessor at church would say if he knew. Maybe he'd call it a blessing. Suzue did not feel blessed; she felt terrified. Things like this weren't supposed to happen. Not any more. The age of miracles was long past…

The Church of Serenity was founded sometime during the first few decades of chaos after the Holy Serenity sacrificed herself to defeat the Great Enemy. Records from that time were incomplete—unbelievers called it the Great Fall—but at some point during those dark years, a few of those who still remembered the years of light had realised the truth. In a time when most people were trying to forget the past, this was a memory worth holding onto. Twice now, Serenity had died to save humanity. Someday she would come for the third time; and then those who still revered her name, who stood ready to aid in her final triumph over evil, would enter with her into paradise: into the Diamond Millennium, where they would dwell in peace for all eternity…

The word spread slowly. Today, the Church was still small, with less than thirty thousand adherents in all of Japan. Most people thought they were crackpots; they called them 'loonies' and worse things. Suzue had learned not to talk about her beliefs at school, and to ignore the whispering of her classmates.

And now this.

Now the day of Her return was coming in truth. Her Warriors were appearing, one by one, clearly precursors to Her own incarnation. It had certainly never occurred to Suzue that she might be one of them. It seemed inappropriate; presumptuous. Blasphemous, even.

But she had the power. All she had to do was say the words, and she would become…other. For the fifth time that morning she called her henshin wand out of—wherever it went when she wasn't using it—and stared at it, in wonder and not a little fear.

It was seductive: the knowledge that she could reach out for that power, touch it, be shaped by it. Speak one short phrase, and become one of the elect. It was so simple, so tantalising. So wrong.

She was sure of that much, at least. To misuse this would be a terrible sin. The Lady had set Her eye on her, and to take that lightly would be like spitting on the altar. If she was to be one of Her Warriors, she must strive to merit the honour. She had been cast in the shoes of Ten'ou Haruka: a mighty example to live up to, and a daunting one.

(It was also a little disturbing, for other reasons. Ten'ou-sama had been one of the Shadowed Senshi: not pure and unsullied like the Inner Four. She had at times done things that were…questionable. There could be no doubt that she was due as much honour and reverence as the others, but still…And there was the way she had died, when the Great Enemy struck. Suzue shivered, and hoped that the Holy Serenity's hand would be lighter on her.)

Her eyes returned to the henshin wand in her hand, and she dismissed it with a quick shudder.

She was still trying to decide whether to tell anyone about this. After all, surely her parents ought to know? Or the Church, at least? The College of Intercessors had been debating the appearance of the new Senshi ever since Venus first appeared. Should she tell her Intercessor what she had become?

She had kept silent so far. Talking about it would seem like boasting, she thought; as if she were trying to seize glory from it. That would be wrong. But mostly, she had not spoken because she…simply had a feeling, deep inside, that this was not something she should talk about. Perhaps it was the Holy Mother, speaking in her heart. Perhaps not. For now, she would hold her tongue.

So, what was she to make of this? It would be too easy to say that she should do her best. That much was obvious. But the situation wasn't that simple.

Consider the company she was expected to keep! The other Senshi, Mercury and Jupiter, were not so bad; they were in the same position as her, at least, and she understood that Venus was a similar case, though she had not yet met her. But then there was Artemis—

Artemis! One of the Holy Mother's closest companions, and she had met him in the flesh! And it was unmistakably _the_ Artemis; how many other talking cats were there? That was another wonder. She had spoken to a being who was older than the Holy Mother, who had served the Blessed Serenity's _own_ mother, who had actually trodden _in his own flesh_ the hallowed halls of the Queen's palace in the Silver Millennium…

It was like being approached by a demigod—that was _exactly_ what it was like—and being asked to join his band.

What business did she have, being in such august company?

The Queen's business; that was easy. Certainly, if She had chosen Suzue to be one of Her Senshi, then She had a reason; and it behoved Suzue to submit to Her will. To be a Senshi, and to do all that was associated with that role: to right wrongs and triumph over evil…and to prepare the way for Her coming.

The thought made her shudder; the other Senshi seemed to think that they might be fighting the same evil that had destroyed Crystal Tokyo. Suzue knew what that meant: the Great Enemy. It seemed hopeless, on the face of it. But still…in the battle on Friday night she had been able to severely weaken the creature they had been fighting, enough for Sailor Mercury to destroy it. Perhaps she _did_ have a place—at least among the newcomer Senshi.

Artemis was another matter. She had been too dazed on Friday night to really take in the implications, but now…how was she supposed to treat him? Should she bow, or prostrate herself? But she had spoken to him normally on Friday, and he had not seemed offended. Perhaps that was how she was supposed to continue?

She reached a hesitant decision. There was to be a meeting at Sailor Jupiter's house—no, at Hayashi Miyo's house—on Tuesday evening. She would keep quiet, watch how the others behaved toward him. Surely that was appropriate for a newcomer anyway. She would especially watch the flippant one, Sailor Mercury (she forgot her real name), and see how she treated him. If Suzue had to speak, she would follow Mercury's lead. That ought to be all right.

Of course, Sailor Mercury wasn't a believer either. And that was a very disturbing thought.

She wished there was someone she dared talk to about it.

-

* * *

-

Dhiti sat quietly at home, doing a jigsaw. It wasn't something that she would normally try—she didn't have the patience for it—but today she'd thought of a rather ingenious short-cut, and she'd just had to try it out. The best part was that it counted as double duty. Well, in a way.

She picked a large, complex jigsaw, showing a scene that had plenty of plain blue sky. Exactly the sort of tedious puzzle that would normally drive her absolutely mad, in fact. She spread out the pieces, got them all turned over face-up…and started cheating.

It worked like a charm. The Mercury computer took less than half a second to scan all the pieces into memory, and another tenth of a second to finish matching them together. If she'd blinked, she might have missed it. Then it flashed up the solution.

She stared at the screen for a little, half-smiling, not quite believing it. Then she started to put the puzzle together. She only had to tap on a spot, and the computer showed her which piece went there. Who said jigsaws were boring? Three thousand pieces, and she had it finished in an hour and a half. It was an anti-climax, actually.

She sat back, scratching her head and wondering what to do next. She was starting to get pretty good with the computer. Well, with the mechanical skills of using it, at any rate. She'd spent a little time sorting through the contents of its memory, and was beginning to get an uneasy idea that she might spend years at it, and not finish.

For now, she wanted to be _doing_ something, not just sitting around tinkering with the thing. Something _practical_.

An idea occurred to her. She rummaged through a drawer in her dresser, and pulled out a small fold of paper. Inside were a few of the slivers of broken crystal that she had combed out of her hair after the battle on Friday night. She had shuddered to look at them, then, remembering how close she and the others had come to being defeated. Now, by daylight, they looked perfectly innocent. All the same, though…

She told her computer to scan them. Dozens of displays began to open on the screen, pouring out screeds of information about them: size, mass, volume, temperature, albedo, thermal and electrical conductivity, capacitance, an analysis of stress fractures…and more and more, a plethora of data, and how was she supposed to know what was significant? When she saw that it had started to generate a 3-D model of the exact shape of each sliver, in ever-increasing detail, she reached out and stopped the computer.

There must be some way to restrict the thing to _useful_ analyses, but she was damned if she could find it. She would have traded her soul for a half-hour talk with Lady Mizuno, about how to operate the machine properly. Or, well, no, not her soul. Her next three or four meals, perhaps. Dinner, definitely.

All right, maybe if she worked out exactly what she _did_ want to know about the slivers, and set it specific questions? She started with the obvious one: what were they made of? The computer promptly told her, in excruciating detail. A pretty good trick, actually; did it have some kind of spectroscope inside it? Well, never mind that now.

Chemical formulae and molecular structure diagrams, they were not a lot of help. Lists of isotopes, ditto. No doubt if she let it, it would start analysing subatomic particles for her. All very clever and thorough, and none of it any _use_.

If she could somehow get it to give her a…a higher level of detail? She hunted around for a little, swearing silently to herself, and then suddenly found it: the summarise function. A simple click on one of those keys marked with the odd symbols, and the display seemed to zoom out. Detail started to vanish, but in its place, emerging out of the chaos, she began to see…patterns? The molecules formed vast, intricate chains, looping and arcing and joining…

That was strange. Weren't crystals supposed to be a simple lattice? But it might explain why the vitrimorphs were able to move without shattering. If they weren't actually crystal, but something that… _looked_ like crystal?

She hesitated, feeling strangely uneasy. Then, shaking her head, she pressed on.

At this higher level of detail, the computer was offering her a whole new set of functions. Experimentally, she asked it to correlate the patterns she'd seen with other patterns in its data banks. The screen seemed to freeze, and for a moment she was afraid she'd done something wrong. Then, slowly, answers began to appear. She blinked when she saw what the computer was finding. She must have told it to match the patterns against absolutely _everything_ it had in storage. How else to explain these matches?

**SHELLFISH**

A picture of a chambered nautilus.

**SPIDERWEB**

An intricate lace of cobwebs, shining with dew in the early morning light.

**CONSTELLATION**

A glittering starfield.

She paused the search, frowning. Yes, some of those bizarre loops and whorls she'd seen could be similar to the spiralling curve of a nautilus, or the ordered tracery of a spiderweb. But constellations? She touched the choice, and the screen changed again.

**CASUAL SIMILARITY ONLY, NO MODERN MATCH  
REGRESSING**

That did make more sense. Viewed objectively, constellations were just chance similarities in the stars. Accidental patterns. Completely meaningless, of course; with a little imagination, you could think you saw anything at all in the stars. Was that what the computer had done? Still…she bit her lip. There was something strange here. And… _Regressing?_ What did that mean?

**MATCH FOUND  
TIME INDEX: -64002299100000  
MULTIPLE MATCHES FOUND  
TIME INDEX: -64002299100000  
COUNT: 163  
SIMILARITY: 96.0187 PERCENT**

She stared at the display for some time. Match found? No, wait a minute, more than a _hundred_ matches found? And with such a high degree of precision? What was going on here?

And that time index figure, that was ridiculous, it was…Let's see, that was in seconds, so it worked out to…she tapped out a calculation, and stared at the results.

A little over two million years ago.

"This is some kind of sick joke," she muttered. But somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice seemed to whisper: _Everything is ruled by the stars…_ A dead voice, dry and dusty.

She shivered, and resumed the search.

**PRIMITIVE CAVE PAINTINGS**

A confusing swirl of curves and shapes painted on a rough stone wall, faded but still clear, still powerful.

**LEY LINES**

A small-scale map of a countryside, with a web of interlocking lines superimposed over it.

**HUMAN DNA**

A vast, double-spiralling molecule.

She did not want to read any more. Her head ached; her eyes were swimming. She was cold, she thought; but when she touched her forehead she found that she was sweating heavily. She wanted to stop. She needed to get out. Out in the open air, where she could breathe—

One final entry appeared on the screen. She stared at it for a moment, frozen, then reached out and deliberately turned the computer off.

When she looked up again she saw to her surprise that it was dark outside. It had been light only a few moments ago, it seemed. Had she really spent the entire afternoon working? She had never done that before. It wasn't like her.

She got up from her desk and turned on the light. At once she felt better. That strange, oppressive feeling—that feeling of suffocation—was gone, and she could laugh at it. It was the year 4200, and there was surely nothing to be afraid of in a few tiny pieces of crystal. Nothing at all.

She picked up the slivers and stared at them for a few seconds. They looked quite innocuous, lying there in her palm. Tiny shining motes, showing nothing of the world inside…

She forced a laugh. Bah! It was all humbug. Chance resemblances, and nothing more. If she were to scan a piece of fluff, she'd probably find just as many peculiar matches. She stepped over to the window, and—before she could change her mind—threw them out. They glittered for a moment, then were gone.

It had to be a coincidence, she told herself as she turned away from the window. It _had_ to be. After all, the last entry in the list was impossible! There had been none of them for thousands of years.

But the word appeared before her eyes again.

**DAIMON**

Impossible, she reminded herself. Just a coincidence.

But as she stood there, the world around her seemed to swim and vanish, and she saw something else: not the long-ago streets of Tokyo that she had been thinking of, but an altogether alien scene. A darkened plain beneath an unfamiliar starry sky, and a group of small, apelike creatures that clustered around a waterhole—and then fled, barking and screaming, as the skies opened up and something dreadful descended into their midst…

Then the image was gone, and she stood in her bedroom once more, blinking and gasping for breath.

She could not restrain a final shiver as she opened the door and went out to look for something to eat.

Her dreams that night were filled with the sound of drums.

-

* * *

-

Hideo spent much of Monday trying to track down Nanako and talk to her in private. It took some doing; she was all the rage today. Normally she hung around on the sidelines, avoiding attention, but today everyone had heard that she was on the scene during the last Senshi battle, and they all wanted to hear the details.

That was understandable. Hideo wanted to hear them too. But he wanted to hear the details that she _wasn't_ telling the rest.

When he finally managed to corner her, that was the first thing he asked. "Did you see her change? Who was she?"

Nanako groaned. "You're at least the fiftieth person to ask me that today. Can't anybody ask anything original?"

"Well, did you?" he demanded.

She gave him a dirty look. "No, Kawatake-kun, I did not see Sailor Uranus change. I was watching Jupiter and Mercury. I didn't know anyone else was still there until Uranus attacked."

He sighed his disappointment, and began to ask more questions. For a little while she kept up the pretence of being annoyed, but soon enough she abandoned it. She was enjoying retelling this, beyond any doubt.

"—Mercury and Uranus hit it together, and it exploded," she finished. "The pieces went everywhere. I thought I'd never get them out of my hair, later."

Hideo snorted at the irrelevance of hair and said, "Then what? Did they say anything?"

Nanako hesitated, for a bare instant. "No," she said. "Not really. They talked for a few seconds—I couldn't hear anything, worse luck—and then they ran out of the hole at the back."

She was lying. If Hideo hadn't been so habitually nosy, he might have missed it. But that moment's hesitation, and the way she didn't quite meet his eye…no, she was lying.

Furious, betrayed, he rounded on her. "I thought we had a deal!" he hissed. "You said you'd tell me everything! You promised! What happened? What _really_ happened?"

She stared at him. "Are you calling me a liar?" she demanded indignantly.

"Yes!"

She stood motionless, clenching and unclenching her fists. Something crossed her face. It might have been anger, or rue. "Dammit—" she began.

"You _promised_!" he insisted.

"I—" She hesitated for one moment longer. "Look, kid, you _really_ can't talk about this."

"I don't talk," he said proudly.

"You talked to _me_."

Deflated, he protested, "You talked to me first!"

"I think I have a better idea of what's at stake—oh, damn, damn it all, I did promise. I—"

She turned away, and he heard her take a deep breath. Then she started to speak. "They were talking," she said. "The Senshi, I mean. I couldn't hear most of what they were saying. Then suddenly, someone else appeared. A woman. She just…appeared out of thin air. Floating, up above their heads…"

She told him the rest of what had happened. He had enough sense to hide his triumph, and listened in silence. "Who do you think she was?" he asked, when she finished.

Nanako shook her head, scowling. "Who knows? I think she said her name was Ishmael, but I could be wrong. I was too far away to be able to hear properly." After a moment, frowning faintly, she said, "She looked familiar, somehow."

"Do you think she was controlling that crystal monster thing?"

"Well, duh. Of course she was. What else would she have been doing there?"

He thought about it, then shrugged. This was getting better and better. Giant crystal monsters, and now teleporting villains…it was like the old stories come to life. "Why did you…I mean, why didn't you want to tell me about this part?" he asked curiously.

He'd expected her to get angry again, but she only looked pensive. "It was after the woman disappeared," she said slowly. "The Senshi. They were looking up at where she'd been, and, well, they looked worried. Scared, even." She glanced down at Hideo. "Something she said, or something she did—it upset them. I just didn't think I wanted to—" She stopped, looking a little bothered herself.

Hideo nodded.

"Anyway," resumed Nanako, "that was when they _did_ leave. I trust that's satisfactory?" she inquired sardonically. He nodded again, and she snorted. "Right. Look, I have to go. I'll see you later, Kawatake-kun…"

Hideo watched her go, his mind whirling. What could make the Sailor Senshi afraid? Nanako had been right; that _was_ worrying. Still lost in thought, he turned to leave himself, thrusting his hands into his pockets. Something crackled there, and he pulled it out. A piece of paper? Then he remembered.

"Wait! Come back!" he shouted. Some distance off, Nanako paused and looked back, irritation clear in her face. He ran after her, and offered her the paper. "I think you dropped this, a few days ago. I found it," he said.

She sighed, but took it. "Not mine," she said after a moment. "Where'd you find it? No, never mind. You were watching us at lunch again, right?" She frowned down at the paper. "Looks like Iku's writing. What is this? English notes?" She snorted. "Well, I'll give it back to her. Thanks, kid."

"Hideo," he said. But she was already walking away.

- - -

Nanako stopped to look at the paper again. It was in Iku's handwriting, all right; they had been partners on assignments, a few times, and she recognised it well enough. But the words made little sense. They were in English:

_With a host of furious fancies  
Whereof I am commander,  
With a burning spear, and a horse of air,  
To the wilderness I wander.  
By a knight of ghost and shadows  
I summoned am to tourney,  
Ten leagues beyond the wide world's end.  
Methinks it is no journey…_

She recognised the quotation, vaguely: a poem their class had briefly studied, a few weeks before. (Where did Sensei come up with these things?) Underneath the words was a drawing. Iku's work for sure: spiky, angular, out of proportion, but curiously striking for all that. A figure on a ghostly horse, holding aloft a burning spear. Most of it was only roughly done, a mere sketch, but she thought the figure looked a little like Iku herself. The spear, though, and the hand that held it, were drawn in great detail. The flame seemed to flow off the spear, right up the figure's arm.

She shook her head. It was strange; but then, Iku had always been strange. Nanako, Eitoku and Beth were her only friends; and even they barely knew her. She seldom spoke; she was always so uncomfortable when anyone showed an interest in her…

She looked at the paper once more. At least it wasn't a picture of a dog. Nanako knew as much about _that_ story as she wanted to. Sighing, she folded the paper once more and put it in her pocket. She'd return it to Iku when she got the chance. For now—

She glanced at her watch, and sighed again. It was almost time to get back to classes. Bother Hideo!—he had made her miss her usual lunchtime with the others.

She didn't ask much out of life, did she? She just wanted to lounge around peacefully with her friends, talking and laughing and teasing Eitoku. And of course to know absolutely everything about anything that was going on. Was that so much to ask? She didn't want to _do_ anything with the information. Just to _know_. Surely that was reasonable? But no, life kept on serving her up fresh complications.

Bother Hideo! Bother and bother again! Well, at least she'd managed to keep one thing from him: the question of the mysterious Dhiti, who was Sailor Mercury. She supposed she'd have to tell him, sooner or later; she _had_ promised, after all. But not yet, she thought. Not until she knew a bit more.

She started toward her classroom, smiling faintly as she replayed the events of Friday evening in her mind. 'Dhiti'…and a girl's face, still clear in her memory: a Claver, Indian from the look of her. Yes, she would recognise the girl if she saw her again.

Her smile widened a little as she recalled how the evening had developed later. It was only the third time she and Eitoku had gone out, but once she'd found him in the crowds outside the theatre, just after she'd run into Iku, things had proceeded very satisfactorily indeed…

She stopped suddenly.

She had run into Iku outside the theatre. But Iku shouldn't have been there. She had told Nanako that she wouldn't be anywhere near the theatre that evening.

Why had Iku lied to her?

-

* * *

-

Kin was on her way out the school gate when she felt an arm curl around her shoulders and squeeze affectionately. Without glancing around she said, "Careful, Toshi. If anyone saw us, they could get jealous."

The arm stiffened. A hand grasped her and spun her about. "And who," demanded Liam, "would this Toshi be?"

She hid a smile. "Oh, Liam-kun!" she exclaimed. "It's you. You should be more careful. You surprised me."

"Surprised, is it?" There was a wounded look on his face, as much of it as she could see under that wild mane. "And just who might you have been expecting instead?"

"Expecting?" she said innocently. "Who would I be expecting but you?" The hurt look did not go away, and she tsk'd to herself. Really, he could be so dense. Her mother said all men were like that, but she'd never really believed it until now.

She decided to take pity on him. "I was joking, silly," she explained carefully. "I knew it was you all along."

"Ah, now, a joke, was it?" he said, looking relieved. "Sure and wasn't I thinking I'd gone and grabbed the wrong girl?"

"You what?" she said before she could stop herself. Then she saw the glint in his eye. He'd known all along, the rat. Then again, maybe that was why she put up with him—he did keep her interested…

They started down the road together—not arm-in-arm, or holding hands, or anything that might suggest they were—well, _together_—but close. Comfortably close.

They talked amiably about this and that for a little. After a while Liam said, "And where would the inestimable Hayashi-san and Sharma-san be today? It's a rare uncommon thing to see you without them, lucky fellow that I am."

Kin spent a few seconds decoding this speech, and said, "Oh. Right. They had to go to Miyo-chan's house for something. I forget what they said, but it sounded pretty dull." After a moment she added thoughtfully, "Funny, but they're always going off together lately. I wonder what they're up to?"

It _was_ odd, now that she thought about it. Almost as if she were being shut out. Oh, it was only her imagination, surely; they were her friends, she knew that. But next time, maybe she'd tag along, even if it was something boring.

"Together without you, is it?" Liam appeared to consider it gravely, and then grinned. "Ah, maybe they're having a passionate affair, now. That would explain it, I'm thinking."

Kin stopped dead and stared at him, shocked. "What? An affair? Them? I mean—_them_?" Liam stared to laugh and she flushed, humiliated. Then she started to laugh too. "Idiot," she managed to say after a moment. "Everyone know that Miyo-chan's crazy about Mark-san. Well, everyone except Miyo-chan and Mark-san, maybe. And Dhiti-chan is—well, Dhiti-chan is…" She trailed off. "I don't know," she finished at last. "But I'm sure she's not like _that_."

"Saving herself for the man of her dreams?" suggested Liam helpfully.

"Um." It was hard to imagine Dhiti-chan being like _that_, either. "Well, maybe," she said reluctantly. Then another thought occurred to her, and she was unable to hold back a smirk. "I wonder what her dream man would be like?"

"I shudder to think." Then Liam snickered. "He'd have to be fast on his feet, sure enough." He eyed her suggestively. "And what would _your_ dream man be like, I am wondering?"

Kin found it rather difficult to look at him, suddenly. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "Some kind of fairy-tale prince, maybe. You don't happen to know any of those, do you?"

He scratched his head. "Lately, in my dreams I've been a cat-burglar," he admitted. "That may not be quite what you're looking for."

It was kind of romantic, though, Kin did not say. She walked along for a little, staring firmly at the ground. When she finally nerved herself to glance up at him, she found he was already looking at her.

"I enjoyed Friday night," he said softly.

She resisted the urge to look away again. "So did I," she said in a tiny voice.

He cleared his throat, unnecessarily loudly. "Um, look, would you like to go and get something to eat?" he suggested awkwardly. "I mean, I'm supposed to meet Mark later at the gym, but that's not for—"

"Sure," she said, causing him to stop in mid-sentence. She had to laugh at the mixture of nervousness and relief in his expression. "And by the way, your accent's slipped again."

He sighed. "I'm sorry I ever told you about that. Oh…well, would you be coming, then?"

She laughed and grabbed his hand, and they ran off together.

-

* * *

-

"Don't worry," Miyo said in a low voice as they walked up to the house. "It's Miliko's netball practice this afternoon. She won't bother us."

"That's what you said last time," muttered Dhiti back. "But what about your brothers? As I recall, you ended up threatening to—"

"Ha! If they try to poke their noses in, I'll make them wish they were on Io!—Oh, hi, niisan," she added as she opened the door.

"Don't mind me," remarked Ichiyo as he stepped past her on his way out. "I'm sure I'd prefer Titan, anyway."

"You wish," she jeered at his retreating back. "Anyway, that's a completely different planet—" She cut off suddenly as Dhiti poked her in the back. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"All part of the service," Dhiti said cheerfully. Then, seeing Miyo's expression, she cleared her throat. "You did ask me to remind you if you…" She trailed off, giving Miyo a meaningful look.

"If I what? Oh," Miyo said, suddenly remembering. "Right. Sorry. I thought I'd gotten over doing that."

"You have improved," Dhiti admitted. With a smirk she added, "You haven't been making a fool of yourself more than the usual two or three times a day, lately." Then, before any minor injuries could occur, she went on hurriedly, "Are we going in, or what?"

"Wait a moment. I thought I saw what's-her-name…Suzue-san coming. Yes, there she is." Miyo suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs, "HEY! OVER HERE!"

"Thanks so much," Dhiti grouched, gingerly removed her fingers from her ears. She watched as Suzue waved in response and started toward them, and said slowly, "What do you think of her, anyway?"

"Suzue-san?" Miyo pursed her lips. "I'm not sure. A bit quiet…that'll be a nice change." Dhiti poked out her tongue. "Certainly not much like Haruka," she went on, holding in the pang of loss she felt as she said it. "C'mon, Dhiti-chan, what am I supposed to say? We only just met her, and that was right after she'd just been attacked by one of those crystal things!"

"Just asking," Dhiti said wryly. "Take a look at what she's wearing."

Miyo did, and raised her eyebrows. Suzue must have gone home and changed out of her school uniform before coming here. She was wearing a blouse and slacks, with a light jacket over the top, all in dark browns and greens. Ostensibly simple clothes; but the material was good, they looked expensive, and fit her as if they had been tailored.

"Maybe her family has money?" Dhiti wondered aloud.

Miyo did not answer; Suzue was too close. Instead she put on a smile as the girl walked up to them, and said, "Hi! Come on in." In a lower voice she added, "Don't talk just yet."

The three of them trooped through to Miyo's room, nodding politely to Miyo's parents as they passed through the living room. Once they were settled down, Miyo closed the door firmly and breathed a sigh.

"So," she said. "Suzue-san, it's all right to talk here—my sister shares the room, but she won't be home until later. Just remember to keep your voice down."

Suzue looked at her quizzically. "Do your parents not know about…all this?" she asked slowly.

"No. Why, have you—you haven't told yours, have you?"

Shaking her head, Suzue said, "No. I wasn't sure if—I mean, I don't like to keep secrets. But this seemed so…" She shrugged.

"Yeah," said Dhiti. "It's a pain, not being able to talk about it. But it'd be worse the other way." Her eyes acquired a familiar gleam. "After all, think of the alternative! 'Bye, Dad, I'm just off to fight some more giant crystal thingumajigs, don't wait up. Reserve my usual room at the hospital, just in case…'"

"Dhiti-chan…" said Miyo.

"'Tell Tetsu-chan he can have my second-best stamp collection, and tell Mark-kun that I'll always remember his smouldering kisses, that night on the beach. I regret that I have but one life to give for the Moon Kingdom—'"

"Dhiti-chan!"

"'Smoke me a kipper, I'll be—' Well, anyway," Dhiti finished, "what it boils down to is, it's probably best not to worry them. See?" She looked disappointed when Suzue only raised a delicate eyebrow. Miyo continued to glare at her and she said, "Come on, obaasan. Lighten up a little!"

"I thought," said Miyo through gritted teeth, "that we agreed that you weren't going to call me that any more."

"Sure, but did you get it in writing?" Dhiti eyed Miyo's clenched fist and muttered, "Oh, I see, this is the _other_ kind of agreement…"

"'Obaasan'?" inquired Suzue.

"Don't ask," snapped Miyo.

"One of dear little Venus's dear little jokes," said Dhiti blithely.

Miyo snorted. 'Dear little joke' indeed. Dhiti had certainly borrowed it readily enough. When they finally tracked Venus down, it would be interesting to see which of those two would end up on top.

"Where is Sailor Venus, anyway?" asked Suzue. "Shouldn't we wait for her?"

"Now that sounds familiar," said another voice. They looked around, to see Artemis squeezing in through the partly-open window. He leaped down onto the bed, looked up at Suzue, and said, "The answer is no. Venus is not coming."

Suzue stared at the cat. There was a strange expression on her face: as if, Miyo thought, she were trying to get up her nerve to do something. Odd. But then, it could be pretty weird, being faced with a talking cat like that. She remembered her own first time…

"Well, go on, furball," she said, grinning at him. "Tell her why not."

Now it was Artemis' turn to get an odd expression. As far as cats could have expressions, of course; but Miyo had gotten to know him rather well, over the years. He glanced up at Miyo, and then away quickly; almost looking guilty, she thought, puzzled. At last, though, he gave in. "All right," he said with a sigh, and explained briefly about Bendis and Venus, being as cryptic as ever (to Miyo's irritation) about the reasons for their separation.

To Miyo's delight, Suzue called him on it immediately. "Why are you working apart, then?" she asked.

Artemis glanced up at Miyo again. Then, to her utter astonishment, he answered.

"Well…Bendis and I don't get on very well. Why…is rather a long story, and I won't go into it now. But—" Another quick, guilty look at Miyo. Why? But he kept on talking, his words slow and unwilling. "A month or so ago, we had a big fight about…well, that doesn't matter either. She ran off in a temper, and I…"

He sighed. "The truth is, I have no idea where she is, or where Venus is, or even _who_ Venus is. I've been looking for Bendis ever since, but no luck. I saw her briefly last Friday, but she ran off again. I don't think she's forgiven me yet…"

He eyed Miyo sidelong, then looked down and said, "I'm sorry. I should have told you all before this."

"So that's it," Miyo breathed. A lot of things started to make sense. The way he had been watching all the schoolgirls on the day she first met Venus, for example.

Artemis looked annoyed. "You don't have to pretend you didn't know already," he said.

"What?" Miyo stared at him. "But I didn't!"

"Of course you did! Itsuko must have told you!"

"She refused to! She just laughed and said she didn't want to spoil your story!"

"What? Why, that—if I'd known you didn't—I'd have never—" He spluttered to a stop, visibly fuming.

Dhiti started to laugh.

Suzue asked, "Who is Itsuko-san?"

- - -

The front door opened, and a girl stepped inside. Hayashi Hitomaru looked up in surprise. "You're home early," he said.

"They cancelled practice," said Miliko. "Sensei broke his leg." The idea of missing out on netball for a week didn't seem to upset her much.

Hitomaru tsk'd, shaking his head. As Miliko headed out down the passageway toward her room, he called after her, "Oh, Miyo's got some friends over."

"Okay," Miliko returned. "I'll just leave my bag and go over to Masumi-chan's place." Hitomaru shrugged, and returned to his newspaper.

Miliko started to open her bedroom door, then paused, hearing voices from inside. To her surprise, one of them sounded like a man. Did Miyo have a _boyfriend_ in there? Grinning in delight, she pressed her ear to the door and listened intently.

After a little, her eyes widened.

- - -

"I can't say," admitted Miyo reluctantly.

"You _what_?" Dhiti gave her a very old-fashioned look. "This isn't like when you couldn't tell me if there was a Sailor Pluto, is it?"

"Like—?" Miyo blinked. "Oh! No." She grinned for an instant, then looked uncomfortable. "I—well, I promised not to say."

"Oh, come _on_," wheedled Dhiti. Suzue, watching, hid a smile.

Artemis cleared his throat. "Itsuko is an old friend of mine," he said smoothly. "Someone I've worked with a few times over the years, back before any of you became Senshi. She, err, knows that Miyo is Sailor Jupiter. Don't worry, Dhiti-san; she can be trusted. She's just…protective of her privacy, that's all."

Dhiti looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Hmm," she said. He began to sweat.

Then she leaned over to Suzue and stage-whispered, "I can't make up my mind. Sodium pentothal, do you think?" Suzue looked startled, then gave her a pained look. Artemis visibly relaxed, which made Dhiti snort. The mood, which had become tense, was broken.

In the midst of the laughter, Dhiti shot Miyo a we'll-talk-about-this- later look. Miyo bit her lip, but nodded back.

At last Artemis cleared his throat and said, "If I may break into the merriment…? Thank you. There are a few other things we need to talk about. Suzue-san—I suppose I should say 'welcome'—"

Miyo sighed, then laughed softly. "I suppose we all should," she agreed. "I don't think any of us were expecting to see Sailor Uranus so soon, but…hey, four is better than three, right? And I think we're going to need every Senshi we can get, by the end of this."

"Almost certainly," confirmed Artemis seriously. "Suzue-san, you should take this." He indicated an object that was lying on Miyo's dresser. "It's your communicator. You can use it to stay in touch with the others."

Suzue picked it up, examining it carefully. It looked like an ordinary wristwatch. She check it against the one she was already wearing. "It's a little fast," she observed.

"Umm, yes," said Artemis. He looked over at Miyo hastily. "Miyo, I assume you haven't managed to give Sailor Venus her communicator yet?"

Miyo snorted. "I've only _seen_ her once since you gave it to me, and I didn't have it with me at the time," she said.

"Yeah, well, keep trying, okay?" Under his breath (though still audibly) Artemis added, "The sooner I get the lot of you together, the better. This stupid division has gone on far too long…"

"You got that right," muttered Dhiti.

Suzue cleared her throat. "If I could ask," she said hesitantly. "I was wondering about the ble—uh, about Sailor Moon? Do you expect to find her also?"

Artemis looked uncomfortable. "I hope so," he said at last. "But that's a different thing altogether. Sailor Moon isn't just a Senshi—in fact, she needn't be a Senshi at all. What she _is_ is the heir to the throne. The princess of the Moon Kingdom. But when Queen Serenity died, there was no heir. Princess Usagi died months before the end, when the disaster all began, and the Queen never had any other children. It's possible…" He hesitated, then said it. "It's possible that this time around, there will be no heir. No princess. No Sailor Moon."

Suzue swallowed. She looked shaken, aghast—as if she'd been slapped, or had had a glass of water thrown in her face. Miyo felt a moment's sympathy. She really seemed to take the news hard. Even harder than Miyo had, when Artemis had first told her.

"Still," Suzue said anxiously, "you hope that there will be?"

"Yes. There could be. When she died, the Queen was working to send the spirits of the dead forward into this time, the way her mother did. We know that she at least partly succeeded—Miyo is proof of that—"

"Miyo-san?" Suzue looked puzzled.

"Miyo is Kino Makoto reborn. In her previous life she was the Sailor Jupiter of Crystal Tokyo. And before that, the last Sailor Jupiter of the Silver Millennium."

"Are you okay, Suzue-san?" asked Miyo, concerned. "You look awfully funny."

"I'm all right," said Suzue faintly. Her face was pale, her eyes very wide. She looked up at Miyo and said, "This is true? You're…you were…?"

Miyo shrugged. "Yeah. But look, it's not that big a deal. Okay, I remember what it was like back then, thanks to Artemis"—she shot the cat a dirty look—"but apart from that, it doesn't actually make that big a difference. I can't even use most of the powers I had back then; I have to learn them all over again." Another dirty look.

"Not _my_ doing," said Artemis innocently.

"So you…are not who you were?" said Suzue slowly. She seemed to be struggling with the idea, as if desperate to accept it. "This…you…is a different person?"

"Well, I mean, it is part of me, of course. To start with, when I remembered everything, it almost swamped me. But I've been learning to sort things out, and—" Miyo shrugged. "Still…I guess you could say that, yeah, I'm not who I was. I'm not Kino Makoto any more. I'm Hayashi Miyo, and that's the way I like it."

"Yes. All right." Suzue closed her eyes, then opened them again and said something very odd. "I'll try and remember that," she told Miyo.

Miyo stared at her, then shrugged. "Okay, whatever. Look, Artemis, we still have to decide what to do about that crazy floating woman and her whatchamacallits, vitrimorphs…"

Things degenerated into a general discussion of the attack at the theatre. Even Suzue seemed to lose her reserve after a while and offered her impressions of what had happened.

Unfortunately, there were no real conclusions to be reached. Miyo thought that the floating woman was the same one who'd been controlling the vitrimorph at the dressmaker's, but Dhiti disagreed. They speculated on the jewel embedded in her forehead, and theorised about the mysteriously-functional Crystal Tokyo tracker she'd used, but in the end they simply had nothing concrete to work on. Artemis had hoped that Dhiti might have been able to find something about the fragments of shattered vitrimorph she'd taken away from the last two attacks. But Dhiti only made a face and said that her computer had not been able to get anything meaningful out of them.

In the end, they were no wiser than when they began. It was a disgruntled Artemis who eventually told them that they might as well stop as they were getting nowhere. He suggested that they look for an isolated spot to practise their powers in, for a group training meeting that weekend. And finally, they broke up and filed out of the room.

Miyo went to the door with the other two. She held Dhiti back for a moment after Suzue left. "Dhiti-chan—"

Dhiti stood looking at her, almost expressionlessly. "Yeah," she said.

"I really did promise. I'm sorry."

"Yeah." After a little, Dhiti sighed. "That explanation's going to have to be a pretty good one, Hayashi."

"Oh, it is." Miyo ventured a smile, and Dhiti grinned back. Things weren't perfect—she was keeping secrets again, and Dhiti knew it and clearly resented it. But Dhiti was willing to let it go, for now. And so maybe it could be all right after all…

As Dhiti turned to go, Miyo touched her arm. "You were asking me what I thought of Suzue-san?" she said.

Dhiti raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Well…she _is_ a bit quiet. And a little weird. But I think she's okay."

"Yeah," said Dhiti. "Yeah, that's about what I was thinking. Seeya, Hayashi."

- - -

As Miyo headed back inside, her father stopped her. "Miyo, might I have a word for a moment?" he said quietly.

"Sure," she said cheerfully. "What's up, tousan?"

He led her into the living room. To her surprise, everyone was there: her mother, Ichiyo, Fujimaro, and even Miliko. She hadn't heard Ichiyo come back in. And what was Miliko doing back at this hour?

"Miyo," said Hitomaru slowly, "Miliko has given us some rather…disturbing news. I was hoping that you could clarify matters."

"Mili-chan?" Miyo began to feel worried. Miliko looked nervous, upset. Had something happened at her school? "What's the matter?" she asked.

Her mother spoke up. "Miyo, Miliko says…" She stopped, looking flustered, then said in a rush, "Miliko says that you are Sailor Jupiter. Is it true?"

"I—" Miyo froze. "What?"

"I was just going in to leave my bag! I heard you talking!" Miliko blurted out guiltily. "I—I thought it was cool! But—" She looked up at Hitomaru, and seemed to flinch.

"Is it true?" her father prompted her.

"I—this is—"

Miyo stuttered to a halt. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, this had somehow never occurred to her. _What do I say?_ she thought, half-panicked. _What am I supposed to do?_

She found no answer. It was simply not something she'd ever had to think about before.

This situation, this moment of confrontation, was something the others had all gone through, one way or another, back in the Twentieth Century. For most of them it had been easy enough, when they'd finally decided to tell their families. But one way or another, it was a moment that all of them had faced. All of them except her. She was the one with no parents, the one who didn't have to explain anything to anybody…

She'd never thought of being an orphan as an advantage before now. But suddenly, for one brief moment, she wished she could be Makoto again. She had lived three lifetimes, and nothing in any of them had prepared her for this.

"I know you would not lie to your family, Miyo," said her father softly.

"This is stupid!" said Fujimaro suddenly, turning away from her. His face was screwed up in exasperation and disbelief. "It's just Miliko playing another one of her stupid jokes! How could you ever think—"

"It's true," whispered Miyo.

The blood drained from Fujimaro's face. "—What?" He looked betrayed.

"It's true. I am Sailor Jupiter." She took a deep breath. "I'm a Senshi."

He stared at her incredulously for a long moment. "You're lying," he said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "This is a trick—"

"No. It's not. I—" She stopped, biting her lip. There was no other way for it. Something more concrete was required.

She did it; there, before their eyes, she pulled out her henshin wand and said the words. Light and sound and energy filled the room; the thunder and the glory shook the house, sending magazines and papers fluttering through the air and momentarily making everyone's hair stand on end. And then she was Sailor Jupiter, and her family were staring at her as if they'd seen a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Fuji-kun," she said simply.

Her mother gasped, a long sound that was almost a cry. Ichiyo sat down quickly, his eyes very wide. Fujimaro stared at her for a long time, then looked away. Miliko looked relieved, vindicated. And her father was—

Hayashi Hitomaru's face was unreadable. "For how long?" he asked.

She let the transformation lapse, became Miyo again. "I don't know," she said wearily. "About three weeks now, I suppose."

Hands clasped, the fingers steepled, he nodded slowly. "So," he said, very quietly. "I was reluctant to believe such a wild story. And yet, it explained so much of your…odd behaviour of late." He pursed his lips; in the same quiet tone he asked, "And when were you going to tell us about this?"

She could not look him in the eye. "I wasn't," she admitted. "Not for a while…maybe not for a long time. At least, not until we've dealt with this—these monsters that are—"

He grimaced. "Monsters." His voice held dismissal. "Monsters are not the problem here." His eyes were impersonal, stern. "Dishonesty is the problem. For sixteen years I have believed that I could trust my daughter. Now I find that I cannot. _That_ is the problem here." He bowed his head; still quietly, he said, "I am very disappointed, Miyo."

"You don't understand!" she protested. "Otousan, this is something I have to do!"

"Indeed?" he said. "That, too, is not the issue."

"I thought you'd be proud of me," she whispered.

"Proud, that my daughter is a liar? No—" He held up a hand as she started to speak. "A lie of omission is still a lie. Whatever your motives, that remains."

Anger began to stir in her. "And why should I have told you?" she demanded. "I don't have to tell you everything I do! I don't tell you if I get eat an ice-cream on the way home from school, why should I have to tell you about this? It doesn't concern you!"

It was an infantile argument; she knew that even as she said it. But he only said patiently, "If my daughter is becoming a costumed hero and fighting monsters in her spare time, I would say that that concerns me very much."

She looked away, defeated—and then hesitated. He'd called her a 'costumed hero'…could that mean that he didn't entirely disapprove?

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I have not yet decided," he said.

Her heart sank. He only put off a decision when he didn't trust himself to be fair, and that meant…She looked him in the eyes, and saw, finally, the depth of his anger.

"Oh," she said meekly, and turned away.

She hated being meek. She had always believed that anger was a better solution; better to face your problems with an angry fist than cower away and cry. But this situation was different. This was _family_. How could she fight this?

Nothing seemed to fit. She still did not know what to do. Frustrated, depressed, she started toward her room.

"One moment," he called after her. She stopped, and he said, "I trust that there are no other such secrets you have been keeping from me?"

The formality in his voice was like a slap. She shook her head slowly and said, "No."

Then she remembered.

"Yes."

And she told them about her past lives. About being Makoto, and Hebe.

A black silence fell when she finished, like the silence of a graveyard. They stared at her as if she'd been talking gibberish. Or as if she'd grown a second head. As if she were some kind of monster. Or a total stranger—

A stranger?

_No—!_

"You…are not my daughter?" whispered Aki. She buried her head in her hands and started to cry.

"No—okaasan, no, it's not like that—" Suddenly, terrified, Miyo was gabbling, talking as fast as she could, saying whatever came into her head, trying to find something, anything, that would take this hurt away. "It's not—I'm still the same—you're the one, the only mother I ever—please, don't cry, I'm still the same as I always—"

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Her father spun her around. His face was dark with rage. "Is this true?" he demanded. "Tell me! Is this true? You are no true daughter of mine, but some kind of…_cuckoo_?"

She tried to force calmness into her voice, to still her wildly-racing thoughts. Her hands were trembling. "Please," she said. "Please…you don't understand! It's not like that at all! I _am_ your daughter! You—you sired me, and mother gave birth to me—"

"_What_ did you say?" he hissed.

The fury in his voice was so great that she flinched. "Don't you see?" she begged. "You raised me, all these years—you loved me—you truly are my parents! You—" She searched for the words to explain it. "Don't you see?" she repeated. "I'm not just Makoto and Hebe—I'm Miyo too! I'm what _you_ brought me up to be. Part of me may be what Queen Serenity sent forward in the Fall, but—"

She never even saw the blow coming. It spun her around, knocked her sprawling on the floor. She stared up at her father in disbelief, lifting one hand to her cheek. It was just beginning to hurt.

"Damn you!" Hitomaru shouted. "Damn you, and your damned Queen Serenity too! How dare she play games with our lives like this? How _dare_ she? She…she _used_ us! _You_ used us! You…you invaded this family, stole yourself a home…you lived off us, all these years—"

"No!" she wailed. "Otousan! Okaasan!"

"Go cry to your father and mother on Jupiter, not to me!" he roared. "You are nothing of mine! You have no place here! Get out! Leave this house and do not return!"

"No—" she whispered, unable to move.

"Will you not? Will you make me throw you out? See here!" Hitomaru reached out, and pulled Miliko to him. "You are not my daughter!" he shouted at Miyo again. Frightened, not really understanding, Miliko burst into tears, and he picked her up, holding her to him protectively. "This is my daughter—my only daughter," he hissed. "_You_ are a stranger to me!"

"Papa," she said. "Papa…"

"Go."

He turned his back on her, holding Miliko close, muffling her wails. Miyo stared around the room, desperate, trying to understand how this had happened so quickly, trying to make sense of it all…trying to see some way to make it better. Her mother was still weeping bitterly, not looking at her at all. Ichiyo was at Aki's side, his hand on her shoulder, talking to her quietly. Fujimaro was staring from Miyo to Hitomaru, his face white, looking as if he were about to faint. Her father…had just disowned her.

Ashes. Everything was ashes.

She turned and left.

-

* * *

-

Captain Aoiro was at work. Working out, that is, at the Olympus gymnasium.

It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it. He came in here every day, spent an hour or so exercising, and struck up conversations with the other people. Quite often, the subject of cats came up.

An odd way of making a living, really, but not too bad, considering some of the other missions he'd been on for 'S' Division. It was just too bad that he detested gymnasiums; but that couldn't be helped. This certainly had its fringe benefits, anyway. He was making a lot of new friends. His physical fitness rating had certainly never been so good. And sometimes, he was able to remove a name or two from the long list of people who might know something about a lost-and-found poster that had appeared one day and disappeared the next.

He certainly wasn't getting anywhere today, though. He had to rotate his hours, according to the schedule that Captain Hiiro had worked out, so as to meet a different set of faces daily. Today he was working the evening shift, and he already recognised all the people who were here. He'd spoken to most of them and eliminated quite a few already. The rest just weren't talkative. He wondered how Hiiro would react if he suggested spiking the water cooler with something to lower their inhibitions a little. Not too favourably, probably.

Some of the people here didn't have many inhibitions, at least. He grinned to himself as he remembered the look on the receptionist's face when he'd arrived earlier. It seemed that Aizawa Ochiyo's secret admirer had left her flowers again last night. Ahh, young love at work. Well, good for her. He'd felt guilty about what he'd had to do to her, the night he broke into the suite upstairs. It was nice to hear she was having a little better luck now.

Pedalling furiously, he suppressed a sigh. Things were pretty hard up when a teenage romance was his main interest for the day. This whole investigation was dragging on ridiculously. After almost a month, they were virtually certain that the Olympus was a dead-end; the only reason they were still here at all was that the damn cat-search had such a ridiculously high priority, and the Olympus was the only half-reasonable lead the Department had ever gotten. Morale in the team was dropping through the floor. Kuroi hardly paid any attention to the investigation any more, spending most of his time training Kitada. Hiiro's attention was all on the Hoseki probe. Mitsukai had quit monitoring the bugs they'd planted; she glanced at the transcriptions once a day, but otherwise buried herself in technical journals. Aoiro himself was the only one who made half an effort any more, and that was only because he had nothing else to do…

The timer blipped, and he stopped pedalling with a sigh, mopping his brow. As he made his way over to the rowing machine, he saw two more young men coming in. Automatically, he checked them against his memorised name lists. Wright and Keenan. Yes, he'd seen them a few times before. Both were definite 'no's on the poster.

He sat down and started rowing.

- - -

Mark saw someone glance up at them as he and Liam came in. A tall, blond man in his thirties. Mark had seen him before, even spoken to him once or twice. A nice enough bloke; talkative, but he seemed to have a fixation on cats. It was odd, too, the way he always seemed to check everyone out as they came in.

He and Liam started on their warmups. Liam had a silly smile on his face, which probably meant that he'd been seeing Kin again. Mark found it a little hard to imagine those two together; Kin was such a tiny thing. Mark found taller girls far more attractive. Girls like—

He suppressed the thought hastily. He didn't want everyone in the gym to be able to see what he was thinking about.

They finished warming up and started in on their usual routines. As always, Liam seemed to want to try out every piece of equipment the Olympus had. Mark preferred to stick to weights, for the most part. Both approaches seemed to be producing more or less the same results, which was a little annoying.

He could hear loud music pulsing in the background. There was an aerobics class going on in the next room. The dividing wall was only a sheet of dark glass, so he could see them at work. Pappadopoulos-san was taking it herself, he noticed. She looked pretty good in a leotard; he made himself look away before he started to think about _how_ good. Damn, what was wrong with him today? Only one thing on his mind…

The music was infectious, and after a little he realised that he was moving in time to it. After a little, he started humming under his breath. In the moments when he had enough breath to spare, anyway.

When he looked up again, he saw Miyo.

He stopped what he was doing, startled. She was standing in the next room, talking to Pappadopoulos-san. Apparently she'd just walked in and interrupted the class. There was somebody behind her, trying to pull her away, but she was ignoring whoever it was, and now Pappadopoulos-san was waving them away…

There were tears running down Miyo's cheeks. Her eyes were puffy. She looked as though the world had just ended.

He heard somebody come up behind him. Liam said, "What's the matter? Hey, isn't that—?"

"Ssh." Miyo and Pappadopoulos-san were going off to one side, out into the corridor. What was happening? Why was Miyo here, and talking to the owner? And what could have happened to her, to make her look so desolated…?

Without thinking, he went to the doorway and snuck a glance out. Nobody was in sight, but the door into the office was just closing. He bit his lip, then snuck silently up to the door and pressed his ear to it.

He wasn't an eavesdropper. He _wasn't_. But this…this was Miyo.

The sound was muffled, but he could just make out Miyo's voice saying, "I didn't know what to do…I don't have anywhere else to go…" She was crying again.

"Yes, of course," he heard Pappadopoulos-san answer. "I'll do whatever I can. Look, go upstairs now. You know the door code. Make yourself comfortable. I'll have to make a few excuses, but I'll be with you in a few minutes…"

Mark froze, startled. Miyo knew the owner of the Olympus? And knew her very well, from the sound of it. But he'd never seen her here before.

Then the full import of what he'd just heard settled in. _I don't have anywhere else to go…_ _What_ had happened to Miyo?

He heard footsteps, and hastily made his way back down the corridor before the door opened again. Liam shot him an enquiring glance, and he shrugged in return.

For want of anything else to do, they returned to their workouts. A minute or two later, he saw another instructor enter the room next door and resume the aerobics class. Pappadopoulos-san did not reappear.

-

* * *

-

The Council meeting on Wednesday afternoon began normally enough, but it went to hell very quickly after that.

Only twelve of the fifteen Councillors were there. Two of the absences were to be expected; the directors of 'A' and 'C' Divisions were uninitiated and thus were routinely sidetracked when there was anything important to discuss. Whereas the director of 'K' Division was…no longer precisely human, and had her own priorities these days.

That was the theory, at least. Fifteen minutes after the meeting began, Number Twelve appeared anyway, rippling into view with a faint whisper of displaced air and dropping lightly into her chair. She grinned around at their shocked faces, and magnanimously waved at the chairman to continue. The glow from the jewel embedded in her forehead reinforced the motion rather dramatically.

The other Councillors shifted uneasily. Since her transformation, Twelve had become…unsettling. Uncomfortable to deal with. But it did not do to go against her…

They were all linked to the Master, of course. Usually, the chairman served as a focal point, relaying instructions; but if necessary, the shadow might descend over their thoughts at any time, filling them with the Master's presence and telling them what was required. That was how it worked. You received orders and obeyed them; and if you did well enough, then the Master hardly ever _did_ speak to you personally, and that was infinitely to be desired.

But Twelve now had a far more direct link to the Master than any of them. She spoke with the Master's voice. That was reason enough to be wary. But she was also a reminder: an example of what might happen to them if they didn't perform satisfactorily…

Only the chairman seemed immune to her presence. He simply nodded to her, and said, "Let us resume. The governments of Tejico and Catalonia have asked for an official statement of position on the Senshi issue. The Duchy of Grande Brasile wants to know if we intend to stand down in their favour. There are a number of other official communications on the subject—I'll spare you the list—"

"Thank you," muttered Nine sourly, just audibly. She was a woman in her mid-thirties, the director of 'P' Division.

The chairman raised an eyebrow, but said only, "Indeed. One way or another, I think we must adopt a public position, and soon. The economy is beginning to be affected; I believe that 'F' Division can confirm that the markets are down…?" Number Four, a tall, dark-skinned man, nodded slightly. "So," the chairman continued. "The effects are minor, thus far, but it would be well to ensure that they remain that way."

"I don't see that there's an issue," said Eight, with a sidelong glance at Twelve. Emboldened by her silence, he added, "It's only an heir to Serenity that we'd be obliged to stand down for, and there isn't any."

"Yet," put in Five.

He shrugged. "If you insist. _Yet_. Perhaps an announcement to the effect that we're monitoring the situation, but that unless an heir presents herself—"

Four was shaking his head. "I think we'll need something a little more concrete than that," he said firmly. "Without a firm, definite position, things will only deteriorate. We can't afford to look weak to the rest of the world."

Twelve stirred. "Or you could ask me," she said brightly.

The eyes of everyone else at the table were suddenly on her. She smiled, seeming to enjoy the attention. Then, as if a mask were being removed, suddenly the smile was gone, and they saw another kind of mask: the mask of a power that wore this body like a puppet.

"These discussions are irrelevant," she snapped. "Locating and observing the Senshi, and forcing their development, is the only priority. All effort must be devoted to this."

"We are of course doing everything we can in that respect," said Two smoothly. He was a middle-aged man with short, curly hair. "But to be able to continue doing that, it's vital that we keep a firm control over the country. If we relax our grip before we're ready, the political and diplomatic repercussions could seriously inconvenience—"

"This is also irrelevant," said Twelve flatly. "Play your political games if you must. But the search must take priority over everything." She paused, and a glint of dark humour glittered in her eye. "Perhaps it is time for the search for the Senshi to take a new path. One that utilises tactics which"—she smiled coldly—"I believe are much favoured by 'S' Division."

Most of the Councillors glanced at Three, who frowned, puzzled.

"Here is what you are to do," Twelve went on. She spoke for several minutes, giving them a clear and detailed set of instructions. As they listened—as the full import of what she was ordering settled in—their faces became paler and paler. A few of them looked sick.

"Any questions?" Twelve finished, smiling around at them maliciously.

There was a long, horrified pause.

"You—you can't be serious," whispered Six, her face ashen.

"I think this is very ill-advised," said Two gravely.

"There are some lines," said the chairman tentatively, "which it would perhaps be better not to cross—"

"You are not questioning the plan's efficacy?" Twelve sounded curious.

"Efficacy?" burst out Six. "I question its sanity! This is the most abominable…monstrous…you cannot do this! You _must_ not! How dare you even suggest such a—"

"Yes?" said Twelve sweetly. Six stared at her for a moment, then turned away. She looked sick.

Number Seven cleared his throat. "Efficacious or not, I think this highlights another point," he said a little pompously. "Number Twelve, do you really think it's appropriate for you to remain a member of this Council? After all, you do have, ahh, other duties now. And it can hardly be possible for you to remain the head of 'K' Division, with your current, er, appearance. Not to mention the fact that we can no longer hold a full Council meeting, since we cannot allow numbers Thirteen and Fifteen to see you, looking as you do! May I therefore suggest—"

Twelve stared at him. "You're trying to get rid of me," she said, delighted. She started to laugh. "Oh, this is priceless!"

Seven looked pained. "Priceless it may be," he began, "but I believe I have raised a number of valid points—"

He recoiled, shock registering on his face.

Twelve had changed. The jewel in her forehead gave a single, brief flicker; then suddenly it was gone, and her blue-and-silver bodysuit was replaced with the uniform of a Councillor. To all appearances, she was the old, untransformed Twelve again. Except for the dark, malicious grin in her face.

"Appearances," she said softly, "are irrelevant." And she started to laugh once more.

In mid-laugh, she changed again. Without warning, there was a duplicate of Seven in her seat, laughing at him. Even her voice had become a perfect match for his.

"No," he whispered.

"Yes," his doppelganger said. "Yes." As it laughed, it suddenly began to bleed: a trickle from the nose at first, and then more; and then drops of blood began to leak from its eyes and ears, and as it opened its mouth to laugh again a great crimson gout spurted forth, and Seven scrabbled back, screaming—

The apparition was gone, and Twelve was back, the jewel in her forehead pulsing. She was not laughing any longer.

"Just remember who you're dealing with," she said. "That's all." She shimmered and vanished.

Pandemonium raged for some time in her wake. Everyone started talking at once, complaining, arguing, sympathising, and lamenting. The chairman eventually had to shout for order.

"What are we going to do?" Fourteen asked, when she could make herself heard once more.

"Do?" The chairman smiled humourlessly; but they could all see that he, too, was worried. "Why, we're going to obey her orders, of course. Unless you'd like to argue with her?"

Fourteen seemed to hunch in on herself, shaking her head repeatedly.

"I thought not. Well, then, you all know what's required of you. In the meantime—" He grimaced. "I do have a thought about how to resolve our political situation…"

-

* * *

-

The 'S' Division forces began to converge before first light on Friday morning. Twenty men and women gathered at predetermined points around the target, arming themselves and strapping on body armour.

At 0530, Captain Hiiro received a "Go" from headquarters. He gave the signal for Stage One. For an area of several blocks around the target, officers began redirecting traffic. Opals began to move in overhead to scan the area and monitor for any escape attempts.

At 0532, Stage One was declared in operation. Hiiro nodded quickly, and gave the order for Stage Two.

'S' Division closed in on the Hoseki Property Group.

-

* * *

-

Beth finished eating, closed her bentou box, and lay back with a sigh of contentment. It was a quiet, peaceful day—it had been a quiet, peaceful week, actually—and she was pleasantly drowsy.

It seemed to have affected the others, as well. Even Nanako and Eitoku had left off their usual bickering. Eitoku was lying on his stomach, reading a book, and for a wonder so was Nanako: a book of poetry, of all things. Beth had stolen a look at it earlier, but gave up when she saw that it was all in English. Who'd have thought that Nanako went in for that stuff? Beth was fond of poetry herself—not just the verses she wrote in secret—but at least she stuck to comprehensible languages.

Ah, well. Each to her own. At least she was keeping quiet, which was about the best you could generally ask of Nanako. Whatever poem she was reading, it must have been a murky one, from the way she was frowning. Every now and then she'd look up and rub her forehead, as if her head ached, and then steal a glance across at Iku. That was a little odd. Maybe she wished that she were drawing a picture instead, the way Iku was. (Beth had stolen a look at that, too. Iku wasn't much of an artist, but it might have been a dog. Or an elephant.)

She took a long, slow breath, then released it. It was a beautiful day, warm and clear. There was just time to catch a decent nap before she had to go back into class.

Then Nanako sat up with a start, exclaiming aloud. The other three looked over at her, frowning as one.

Nanako cleared her throat. "Sorry," she said. "Just something I read. It…surprised me, that's all."

"The butler did it," said Eitoku absently. Nanako whacked him with her book.

Beth sighed again. Maybe, when you came right down to it, some things never _did_ change.

- - -

Nanako stared blankly at the page in front of her, frowning in concentration. It had taken her some time to track down the poem on Iku's lost sheet of paper, and trying to read it was taking even more time. The damn thing was pretty obscure, and half the time the words were in the wrong order…

She was not entirely sure why she was going to all this trouble. But in the last few days, Iku had begun to interest her strangely. What was going on behind that closed face? Why was she apparently so interested in an unintelligible poem? And why, _why_ had she lied about going to the theatre?

Nanako had considered just asking her about it. After all, it was a minor point. Maybe she'd finished her dentist appointment early, and simply changed her mind about coming. And yet…when she arrived, she was out of breath, as if she'd just run a mile; and that was more than an hour after the film started. Why run so hard to get to a film that you were going to miss anyway?

Most interestingly, it wasn't the first time Iku had lied. Two and a half weeks ago, there'd been that big fire downtown, when the Senshi fought the first one of those crystal monsters. Iku had been there; she said that she'd seen the fire as she was passing on her way home from school. But Nanako happened to know that Iku lived almost in the opposite direction.

Why lie? Especially, why lie about something so trivial? It was almost as if Iku didn't _know_ why she'd been there, either time…

Shaking her head, she returned to the damn poem. _Tom o' Bedlam's Song,_ it was called. It seemed that that was a reference to a bunch of wandering beggars who had roamed about England, thousands of years ago. Apparently a lot of them had been mad, or half-mad, which Nanako had to admit fitted the poem.

It had several more verses than they'd studied in class, but they weren't any easier going. Then, as she read further, muttering the unfamiliar words to herself, she came across a verse that made her sit bolt-upright, exclaiming aloud in surprise.

Everyone else gave her dirty looks, of course. "Sorry," she explained sheepishly. "Just something I read. It…surprised me, that's all."

"The butler did it," observed Eitoku wisely. She hit him, and, even more wisely, he shut up.

As everybody settled down once more, Nanako returned her eyes to the page in front of her. _Now that's an interesting coincidence,_ she thought. She read through it again:

_I know more than Apollo,  
For oft when he lies sleeping  
I see the stars at bloody wars  
In the wounded welkin weeping,  
The moon embrace her shepherd  
And the queen of Love her warrior…_

She stopped there. The moon, and the queen of Love? The stars at war? And she happened to know that in Greek legend, Apollo had a twin sister named Artemis. She shook her head dubiously. It had to be a coincidence; it simply had to be. But all the same—

Quite suddenly, a number of facts rearranged themselves in her mind.

She stared down at the page, shocked. _This_, of all things, she would never have suspected. It was ridiculous, it was quite impossible, and yet…She reassembled the evidence, went over it piece by piece. A ludicrous conclusion, and yet it all fit.

The poem. And the lies. And that picture. _With a blazing spear…I summoned am to tourney._ And even the way Iku had gotten shyer than ever since Beth had joined their group. And all the other, niggling little strangenesses…

Iku was a Senshi.

- - -

Later, she managed to find Hideo and talk to him in private. She was going to need his help.

"Really?" he said doubtfully. "Kodama-san? Her? Which one is she, then? Jupiter, Mercury or Uranus?"

"No, you don't understand," Nanako said impatiently. "Not one of _them_. Don't you see? She's one of the ones who hasn't _become_ a Senshi yet."

"Oh." He blinked at her. "What do you want me to do, then?"

Nanako grinned. "You've got to help me talk to Bendis."

-

* * *

-

When school let out, Miyo headed for the gates as quickly as she could. Avoiding her friends had become one of her main priorities in life over the last three days.

At first, when she went to school on Wednesday, she'd hoped that she'd be able to keep it all a secret—that somehow, in spite of it all, she'd be able to carry on normally. That hope had been shattered almost immediately. Somehow, Wright Mark had found out about what had happened—a distorted version of it, at least. By lunchtime, half the school seemed to know that something was up.

Eventually, she hadn't been able to take the whispers, the veiled hints and the sly half-glances any more. In the middle of a crowd of students, she announced flatly that her parents had disowned her and that she was now living with an old family friend.

When she was finished she walked up to the boy who'd been the most vociferous in his comments, knocked him unconscious, and then walked back to the Olympus and cried for hours.

Thursday was worse. All she wanted was to be left alone; instead, she was deluged in sympathy—some of it genuine. She'd never guessed that she had so many well-wishers. The fact that most of them were secretly hoping to hear some details on what she'd done to be disowned was not lost on her, however. She was the biggest scandal to have hit the school in years, and they lapped it up.

Let them. Those ghouls she could handle. She did have a reputation for fighting, after all; growing up with two active brothers had forced her to become rather physically-inclined herself. No, it was the others who could hurt her the most now. The ones who really did care.

She told Dhiti the truth about what had happened. Dhiti was shocked, horrified. She offered to help, of course; Miyo had lost count of the number of people who'd offered help. She gave Dhiti the same answer that she gave everyone else: she didn't need anything except to be left alone for a while.

Dhiti asked where she was staying. Miyo almost told her; but then she remembered that Itsuko still hadn't given her permission to reveal her identity. Instead, she simply shook her head to Dhiti and walked away. It seemed that she was rejecting Dhiti rather a lot, lately.

Kin, Mark and Liam were harder. Well, Mark was easy; after all, his wagging tongue was responsible for her current publicity. He was terribly contrite, but for now she really didn't care. She told Kin, at Dhiti's suggestion, that her father had discovered that she was secretly a Sankaku assassin and had thrown her out. She felt bad about saying it. Kin wouldn't believe it, of course; she'd probably even realise that Dhiti was behind the story, though she'd pass it on to Liam anyway. But still, it was unfair to have to lie to her friend.

And so it went on. She'd hoped that that things would improve, once people got used to the idea. But then, she'd hoped a whole lot of things that hadn't happened. She'd hoped her father might change his mind, for a start. That was wishful thinking, though; she'd learned that all too clearly after Itsuko talked to her father.

By the end of Thursday, she was simply trying to stay away from everyone, friend or not. Today merely continued the pattern. She had decided that if she didn't talk to anyone, they couldn't remind her of what she'd lost. It didn't seem to be working all that well—the constant effort of trying to stay away from everyone left her thinking about nothing _but_ what had happened—but she simply could not think of anything else to do.

And so, today. As soon as class let out, she ran for the door (ignoring a few shouts to wait) and sprinted for home—

A little too slow. Somebody stepped out to block her as she approached the gate. She had to stop, or run him down.

When she saw that it was Mark, she half-regretted stopping. Right now, she wouldn't have felt too bad about flattening him. Oh, she knew that it wasn't his fault, not really; his questions had been innocent enough. Still, it was difficult not to hold it against him.

"Wright-kun," she said coolly.

"Miyo-san, you've got to stop doing this," he said quickly, as if afraid that she'd cut him off. "Don't keep running away. Please. Let us help you—"

He was being pretty familiar, but she ignored it. "Help me?" She laughed bitterly. "And what do you think you could do to help?"

As she'd expected, he didn't have a ready answer. He was all full of noble intentions, but short on specifics. All the same, to her surprise she felt faintly disappointed.

"We could—I could talk to your parents," he offered after a moment's thought. "They might have changed their minds. After all, it's been a few days…"

She shook her head. "It's been tried," she said. "Don't waste your time."

It had been tried, all right. Itsuko had tried, that first evening. She got Miyo settled into the spare bedroom, and then drove straight around to the Hayashi house. She refused to tell Miyo exactly what had happened there, but had admitted that eventually it became a spectacular shouting match. The only positive thing that came out of it was that she managed to bring away several armfuls of Miyo's belongings.

The bad news was that the next day, she'd been formally notified that Miyo's father had contacted 'I' Division and registered the break. Miyo was now officially _ex familia_.

How could he do that? How could he simply walk away from somebody he'd cared for and loved for sixteen years? His own _daughter_? How? If their positions had been reversed, she'd have cut her right arm off first. If she could find some way to understand it, maybe she could work out how to make it better…how to go home again…

She laughed bitterly. She couldn't go home again, not any more. That was about as official as it could get, now. And her father had thrown her out because she wasn't his daughter at all; she was a cuckoo, an outsider who'd invaded his home, his family, and used him as a nesting- place, lived off him for years…

She realised that Mark was staring at her. Well, let him stare. It didn't matter any more. She said as much to him.

"Whatever happened," he asked, "to the Miyo who'd fight back?"

"What good did it ever do her?" she replied bitterly. "Tell me how to fight _this_. Tell me!"

He did not answer. She turned her back on him and walked off.

Coming back to school so soon had been a mistake. She'd thought so before, but she'd let Itsuko persuade her otherwise, that first night, after Itsuko returned from her fam—her ex-family's house.

Itsuko had initially suggested changing schools. By that time, Miyo's initial crying fit had eased, and she was able to consider the question in a kind of half-calm. "I don't know," she'd said slowly. "I don't think I'd want to leave Dhiti-chan and Kin-chan." Or Mark, really, but she wasn't about to admit that.

"In that case," Itsuko had said, "I'd suggest that you don't take any time off. Go back as soon as you can. Tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Miyo had asked doubtfully.

Itsuko had hesitated before answering, "No. I just think that…I'd want to get it over with, if it were me."

In retrospect, changing schools might not have been a bad idea. Kawasemi wasn't too far away, or even Hibari, which was where the Olympus' receptionist went. (Ochiyo was totally mystified by Itsuko's new guest, but was trying to take it in her stride.) And perhaps a clean break would be better…

No. She clenched her fists as she walked. No, she wasn't going to run away. Itsuko had been right, and wrong. She hadn't been in Miyo's shoes; after so much time on her own she was a little too far removed to be able to really remember how it felt to lose a family. Miyo _had_ gone back too soon; she would have been better off waiting until next Monday, at least. But still…maybe it was true that hiding wasn't doing her any good. Sooner or later, she would have to face her troubles, and find a way to go on…

At that moment, as she walked around a corner, she came face-to-face with one of her troubles in person. They stared at each other for a few seconds, startled.

"Oneesan," said Fujimaro at last.

"Do I know you?" she said coldly.

He winced. "Don't," he said. "Please."

"'Don't, please,'" she mimicked. "Oh, that's nice. Don't you think it's a little late to start getting friendly again?"

He seemed to shrink back a little. "I didn't mean—" he began lamely.

"I'm sure." She looked at his unhappy expression, and all the helplessness and depression that she'd felt over the last four days seemed to melt away. What was left was anger. Anger at her father, and at Mark; anger at Itsuko for sending her back to school; anger at herself, for not having the courage to face up to what had happened. And anger at her brother. Yes, especially at him; because in a way, his betrayal had been the worst.

"What _did_ you mean, then?" she demanded. "Just a casual 'hello' to someone you used to know? Is that who I am?"

"No," he said desperately. "No. You're—" He swallowed, then burst out, "You're my sister. All that…all the rest…that doesn't matter. You're my onee—"

"Oh, and my little brother wants to say sorry," she said sarcastically. "Isn't it a bit late for that, too?"

"It wasn't my fault," he said wretchedly.

"No? Whose was it, then? Otousan's? Mine? Whose fault _was_ it? Whose?" He started to say something, but she reached out and poked him in the chest with her forefinger, hard enough to rock him back. "I'll tell you whose fault it is," she said softly. "Otousan's. _And_ mine. And it's also _your_ fault. Do you know why? Because you knew that it was wrong, what he did. You _knew_, and you watched it all happen…and you didn't do anything.

"You never spoke up. You never said a word. And that," she snarled, "makes you just as guilty."

She stared down at him—they were the same height, but right now it felt as though she were towering over him—and said, very quietly and very very clearly, "I have nothing more to say to you."

She left him standing there, and walked onward without looking back.

- - -

At the Hayashi home, Hitomaru opened the last family album and began to page through it, removing photographs. When every one that showed Miyo was gone, he closed the album and put it to one side, looking at the pile of photographs in his lap. Then he picked them up and walked over to the fireplace.

He wept silently as he did it; but his hands were rock-steady as he burned them.

-

* * *

-

Early on Saturday afternoon, Nanako knocked briskly on the McCrea door. A tall woman in her late thirties answered. "Can I help you?" she said.

"McCrea-san?" enquired Nanako. The woman nodded. "Excuse me," Nanako went on politely. "Is Beth-san in? I'm one of her classmates."

The woman raised her eyebrows and gave her a welcoming smile. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'm afraid Beth isn't home right now." Nanako already knew that; she'd watched Beth leave half an hour ago. She'd also noted that the girl hadn't taken Bendis with her. Then Beth's mother added, "I think she was going to a movie; there was one she wanted to see last weekend, but she couldn't make it."

Nanako blinked. _Why that sneaky little…I never got to see the ending because of that monster attack, and now she's going to see it before me!_

Aloud she said, "Oh, no!" She put on a carefully-practised rueful look. "I lent her a book a few days ago, and I need it back again. Is there any chance I could—"

"Yes, of course. Do come in." Nanako followed McCrea Helen through to Beth's room. It looked pretty much the way she'd expected it: very neat and tidy, almost fussily so, except for the writing desk which was comfortably sloppy. There was a little stack of shelves in one corner, half-filled with books. A few others, library books, were piled on the desk.

And there was a tabby-cat lying on the bed. It looked up as they came in.

"Now, what was it you needed?" asked Helen.

"It was an English study guide," answered Nanako glibly. "With a green cover." She made a show of inspecting the pile on the desk, then stared at them in genuine surprise. "I didn't know Beth-san was interested in martial arts," she said.

Helen looked around, and frowned when she saw what Nanako was holding. "She never used to be," she said, sounding puzzled herself. "Just lately, she's started reading all sorts of peculiar things. Last week, it was medical texts…Has she been getting into fights at school?"

"Beth-san? Not likely," said Nanako, putting the books down. It occurred to her that she knew one very good reason why Beth might be expanding her reading habits; but of course she couldn't say that.

Shaking her head, Helen returned to her inspection of the books. At that moment, there was a knock at the front door. With a sigh, Helen turned once more and said, "Excuse me, I must see who that is." She bustled out, leaving Nanako alone…with her quarry.

She sat down on the bed, moving casually, and reached out a hand to stroke the cat. Hideo should keep McCrea-san busy for a few minutes. Plenty of time.

The cat started to purr, and with a chuckle, Nanako picked her up, rubbing her head. "You like that, do you?" she murmured. The purr increased, and she smiled. "I'm glad," she went on. "You see, I think we need to have a little talk…Bendis."

The purr cut off dead. She felt the cat stiffen in her arms.

"There's no need to make a fuss," she went on quietly. "I'm not going to tell anybody about you. But I know who you are…and what you are. I know Beth-chan is Sailor Venus. I know Dhiti-san is Sailor Mercury. Is that enough to convince you?"

No reply. But she hadn't expected one.

"All right," she said. "But I need to talk to you, urgently." She put Bendis down. The cat backed away from her hurriedly, watching her intently. Nanako got up and opened the window. "I'll be waiting outside, by the trees down there, in five minutes," she said. "I'll have a…mutual acquaintance with me. Please…" She bit her lip, suddenly uncertain. "Please come," she finished.

Still no answer. She glanced around. McCrea-san would return soon. "Please," she said urgently. "I have to close the window before Beth's mother gets back."

The cat gave her one long, unreadable look, and then leaped to the window and jumped out. Nanako breathed a sigh of relief, and closed the window silently. The bit about Dhiti could have been awkward if Bendis had called her bluff, but she seemed to have gotten away with it.

One thing left. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a thin book with a green cover. When McCrea Helen returned, she waved it and said, "I found it! Thanks, McCrea-san."

Helen smiled and said, "That's quite all right. I'll tell Beth you were here, er—" She paused expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Nanako said. "I'm Tsurara, Hyogano Tsurara." That should puzzle Beth, especially if she really was out watching the new Icewalker film.

She let Helen escort her out, and walked casually down to the trees that she'd pointed out to Bendis. Hideo was waiting there. He grinned at her as she walked up. "Piece of cake," she said.

"Piece of cake?" said a voice from above them, before Hideo could reply. They looked up to see a small, angry tabby cat sitting on a branch, just out of arms' reach. "Is that what you call it? You'd better have a very good explanation of this, Kawatake Hideo!"

Hideo flinched. "Bendis—" he began.

"I should have known you couldn't keep your mouth shut," she went on bitterly. "You had to go talking! And you, Higoshi Nanako! I don't know how you got involved in this, but what kind of person goes sneaking around behind her friend's back? I doubt she knows you're here…"

"I didn't—I didn't!" stuttered Hideo. "I never told her—she—"

"Relax," suggested Nanako cheerfully, cutting him off. "About the only thing Kawatake-kun told me was your name, Bendis-san. I already knew the rest." She smiled modestly and added, "It wasn't hard to figure out. Beth-chan made quite a few mistakes, to start with."

The cat gave her a long, measuring look. "So what now?" she asked finally. "If this is some kind of blackmail—"

"Relax," Nanako said again. "We're not going to make trouble." She grinned. "As a matter of face, we're here to help you. Now, why don't we go and find somewhere a bit more private and comfortable, and I'll tell you what we've discovered…"

- - -

"Interesting," said Bendis, some time later. She was a lot calmer now, but she was keeping a careful distance between herself and Nanako. "But it's a bit thin," she went on. "And…honestly! Iku-san? Kodama Iku? I've only met her a few times, but she's—well, she's so—"

They were seated comfortably on the grass on the outskirts of Tomoe Park. A group of young men were kicking a football around some distance away, but other than that there were few people in sight.

"Yes, I know," agreed Nanako. "She's a bit quiet." That was certainly understating it. "But you must admit, it does seem to fit."

"I don't see that it fits at all," Bendis objected. "Iku-san as Sailor Mars?" She shook her head. "I can't see it."

"Why Sailor Mars, anyway?" asked Hideo. "You didn't say that before."

Nanako hesitated. "I could be wrong about that," she admitted. "But it's that picture she drew. The figure with the flame running right up its arm." She pulled the paper out and showed it to Bendis. "And she drew it looking like herself…"

Bendis studied the picture for a while. "Not much of an artist, is she?" she muttered after a little. "I don't see any resemblance, but if you say it looks like her, well…"

"All right, so it's rough," Nanako said defensively. "But what about the way she keeps showing up at Senshi battle sites? And lying about it?"

"I don't see how she's supposed to have worked out that she's a Senshi," protested Hideo.

"But don't you see?" said Nanako excitedly. "She hasn't! _She doesn't know_! That's why she was lying to me—because she keeps finding herself, well, _drawn_ to these places, and she doesn't know why! So she makes up stories to try and explain it to herself, but she knows they're not true and it just makes her more upset—she's been even shyer since Beth came along—"

"It's like the Senshi in the olden days," murmured Hideo. "They always seemed to turn up at just the right time…"

"Right!" agreed Nanako. "The right place at the right time, apparently by complete coincidence. Normally you'd probably have spotted her by now," she said to Bendis. "But Iku-chan's so quiet—she always hangs back, tries not to be noticed—so she keeps on finding herself on the spot, over and over. First at that fire, then at the theatre…I wonder if she was there at the other battle too? The one at the dressmaker's."

"No," Bendis answered. "I was there; I'd have seen her. There was nobody around that—um. Wait a moment." She hesitated. "Beth said something, later…she thought she'd seen Iku-san, a block or two away, as we were leaving…"

"Wait a moment," Hideo burst out, "you mean she really _is_—?"

"It's quite a coincidence," admitted Bendis. "Once is nothing, of course. Even twice. But three times in a row…that's quite interesting."

"I wonder if, subconsciously, she knows that she and Beth are the same?" Nanako mused. "That might be another reason she's been so quiet lately. And of course there's that poem…'By a knight of ghosts and shadows I summoned am to tourney.' No wonder she's haunted by it…"

Bendis gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Not quite the bubble-head you like to appear, are you?" she said. Nanako flushed, but did not reply.

"I think," Bendis said slowly, "that I'd better check Kodama-san out."

- - -

"I'm surprised that you haven't done this already," Nanako said some time later.

"I couldn't get near her," Bendis said absently. "She said something about preferring dogs. Of all the absurd ideas!"

Nanako made a face, but did not answer. Bendis looked up at her curiously for a moment, before returning her attention to the girl they were watching.

The botanical gardens were beautiful, she had to admit; the flower-beds, and the delicate landscaping, and the carefully-shaped trees and hedges, all lovingly tended. Iku was sitting on a bench in a quiet nook, knitting. Occasionally she would lift her head and glance around, and then look back down to what her hands were doing. Bendis could not read her expression.

"She comes here almost every Saturday," said Nanako quietly. "She spends most of her free time here."

Right here, in this exact spot, she did not say; but Bendis understood it anyway. All this beauty, all around her; but Iku had eyes only for the wool taking shape in her lap. She wasn't here to look at the gardens; she was here because it was a place where hardly anybody else came. Who was she hiding from, here in this out-of-the-way corner?

She would find out, Bendis decided.

"You two ought to go now," she told Nanako and Hideo. "I'll handle this."

She started forward slowly. Behind her she heard a faint scuffle as the two humans moved away. They would remain to watch, of course; they'd probably think that she didn't know they were there. She couldn't do anything about that. But at least they'd keep out of the way.

She made it almost to Iku's feet before the girl noticed her. Then she heard a sudden, startled hiss of breath. She looked up into Iku's face, gathered herself, and jumped up onto the bench beside her. The girl flinched, almost imperceptibly.

What was wrong with her? Iku was acting as if she were expecting to be attacked. Was she afraid of cats, or something? But she hadn't been afraid, that time at the school. Just…unwilling. So what was the problem?

She looked up, saw the girl staring down at her uncertainly, and decided to take the risk. Moving very slowly, she got up and stepped toward her. Iku almost seemed to be holding her breath; but she did not flinch again, not even when Bendis bent her head and rubbed it against her skirted leg.

_Almost…_

And then Iku lifted her hand and touched Bendis' back, stroked her gently. And Bendis, quite unable to help herself, stiffened at the feeling that flooded through her.

_Power_.

Such power. Such a flood of potential. For one dizzying instant Bendis glimpsed it all: a hundred Ikus, a thousand, a multitude of Ikus as she might have been—the totality of the labyrinthine space-time entity whose intersection was Kodama Iku. She saw an Iku all clad in shining mail, mounted on a warhorse, and holding aloft a spear that burned. She saw an Iku who rode a fiery chariot between the stars, and laughed as the wind that filled the void swept her hair back, like a glittering black train. She saw an Iku in the garb of Sailor Mars, and then an Iku dressed as Sailor Mercury; then, bizarrely, an Iku dressed as one of the Senshi of Kinmoku; and then an Iku wearing a Senshi uniform that she did not recognise. And she saw an Iku who stood alone on a vast battlefield, red-gold in the light of the setting sun and littered with the slain bodies of a great host; an Iku who lifted her hand against the vast, shadowy form that loomed over her, dwarfing her, and unleashed a bolt of energy that was too bright to look at…

And then it was gone, the vision cut off, as Iku, frightened again by her sudden tension, lifted her hand from her back.

Bendis held very still, staring up at her. Slowly, hesitantly, Iku reached out and stroked her again. And this time Bendis felt nothing at all.

No, not quite nothing. There _was_ a power there…flickering at the borders of perception, so faint that it was almost unnoticeable. Faint, and yet potent. As if it were sealed away, somehow.

Well, Bendis knew a very good way to break those seals.

She looked up at Iku once more, took a deep breath, and said, "Iku-san, it's time to stop hiding. I have a job for you."

While Iku was still staring at her, mouth hanging open in shock, Bendis jumped down to the ground, gathered herself, and leaped into the air—turning a single, perfect backflip. As she landed, she heard the soft thump of the henshin wand hitting the grass behind her.

It was not the original wand for Mars. As far as she could tell, that one seemed to have been lost after the Great Fall; it was not in storage, at any rate. This was Younger Mars': the seldom-used transformation wand of a Senshi-in-training. But it would do well enough.

"Pick it up," she said softly. "Say the words."

Iku stared at her, unmoving.

"Do you want to be sitting here, knitting, for the rest of your life?" Bendis demanded. "Pick it up!"

For a long time Iku remained frozen. Then, in a very low voice, she said, "Are you real?"

Bendis sighed theatrically. "Yes, I'm real. Why, did you think you'd fallen asleep or something?"

"You're a cat."

"Very good! Yes, I'm a cat."

"…All right."

Obediently Iku got up, and stooped down to pick up the rod. As she straightened up once more, something seemed to awaken in her face: some echo of the other Ikus Bendis had seen, something fierce, and wild…

Then she shook her head, and it was gone. She looked enquiringly down at Bendis and said, "What words?"

She should have known the words, from history lessons if nothing else. They should have been thrumming in her head, crying out to be spoken. But Bendis simply told her quietly, "Say 'Mars power, make-up.'"

Iku stared down at the rod in her hand for a moment longer, her face blank. Then she grimaced, and held it up high—as always, the moment seemed to demand that—and said softly but very clearly, "Mars. Power. Make-up…"

For an instant that seemed to last forever there was silence. Then it came out of nowhere: a swirl of flame, lighting up the nook with a reddish glow. It licked about her, surged, ebbed—and then roared up into an incandescent pillar, crackling with energy and power. A wave of heat rolled across the clearing. In the centre of that pillar, at the heart of the fire, Iku hung suspended, turning slowly, barely visible. Her clothes vanished, consumed by the force that was reshaping her. Then the flame wrapped itself about her, firmed, took on shape and colour…

And the energy surged one last time, and was gone. And where Iku had been standing was the Senshi of Fire, Sailor Mars.

-

* * *

-

"What was that?" said Itsuko, sitting up with a start.

Miyo glanced over at her. "What?" she asked.

"I—don't know. I thought I heard something. Or maybe I…" She trailed off, looking puzzled.

"I didn't hear anything," Miyo offered.

Itsuko relaxed back in her chair, shaking her head. "Must be my imagination," she said. "It seemed…almost familiar, somehow."

"Maybe somebody took a fall downstairs in the gym?"

"I don't think so," Itsuko said doubtfully. Then she shook her head. "Well, never mind. If they need me, they'll call." One of the privileges of being the owner of the Olympus was that she was on call all the time, even when she was nominally off-duty. Fortunately there hadn't been any major crises for a while, apart from the break-in a couple of weeks ago.

(That break-in still rankled. She still hadn't found out who had bugged her office. But she could be patient when she had to be; and sooner or later, the guilty party was going to get a very rude shock.)

With a sigh, she sat back and tried to concentrate on the news program on the viddy. It was stupefyingly boring, and after a little her attention started to wander again. She found herself watching Miyo. The girl was busy re-potting a collection of rather sorry-looking plants. From the look of it, she was taking cuttings as well.

Itsuko stifled another sigh. It wasn't going to be long before the suite was ankle-deep in greenery, she just knew it. Oh, it wasn't as though she disliked plants; actually she rather liked a few around the place. But her idea of how many were appropriate was a long way from Miyo's…

Well, if it kept Miyo happy, Itsuko supposed she could put up with it. The girl was humming quietly as she worked, and that was certainly a big improvement over the last few days. In fact—

"You're certainly a lot more cheerful today," she said.

Miyo looked up, surprised. "I am?" she said, as if it had not occurred to her. Then she seemed to think about it. "Maybe I am," she admitted.

She'd been better since she got home from school the previous night, actually. Itsuko gathered that she'd had some kind of row on the way home; perhaps it had cleared the air a little. All the same, Itsuko suspected that the problem had only been buried for a little. Miyo had gone through several major upheavals recently, and sooner or later it was all going to explode if something wasn't done. The trouble was, Makoto had always tried to be the tough one, braving it out and in the process, shutting out anyone who tried to help…

"Is it because you're done with school for the week?" she prompted the girl.

Miyo's face fell at the reminder, and she looked glum. "I suppose so," she said slowly. "It's just…"

"Yes," Itsuko sighed. "I know." She was sorry that she'd mentioned it at all, and spoiled Miyo's good mood. But the subject needed to be aired, and maybe it was better to have it all out now. She went on, "I shouldn't have told you to go back so soon. But I thought that—"

"I just wish they'd leave me alone!" Miyo burst out. "They always keep on pestering me, and trying to make me talk about it…why can't they just let me be?"

"Maybe it's because they're your friends," Itsuko suggested. "They can see you're hurting, and they want to help." It was always so easy to look at Miyo and see Makoto, her friend of more than a thousand years. But the truth was, while this girl shared Makoto's past life and memory, she was predominantly a sixteen-year-old girl—and just as capable of being hurt as any teenager.

"There's nothing they can do to help," said Miyo sulkily.

"Of course there is. They can be your friends, Miyo, and that's what you need right now. They'll help you, all right. If you'd just let them."

Miyo did not reply for a moment. Then she muttered, "You're my friend. What do I need them for?"

Itsuko stifled the answer that sprang to her lips. Her friend? It wasn't a friend that Miyo wanted her to be; it was a substitute mother. The situation was not a comfortable one for Itsuko. Worse still, there was the danger that if this went on much longer, it might really end up that way.

"You don't mean that," she said steadily. Miyo still looked stubborn, and she decided to try another tack. "Mako-chan, tell me something," she said. "What would Usagi do if she were here? If it was her out there, instead of these other friends of yours?"

Miyo whirled about, staring at her in shock. Itsuko did not back down, and at last Miyo looked away.

"She…she'd do the same thing," she admitted. "Maybe more. She'd be around here, pounding on the door and shouting for me to let her in. She'd never give me a moment's peace until I let her h-help me…" She smiled. There were tears in her eyes, but she smiled.

"That sounds about right," said Itsuko judiciously. "Nothing subtle about her, was there?" She smiled too, fondly. Then, returning to the subject, she said, "Something else. The ones who keep pestering you at school. Who's doing it? Is it everyone, still? Are the gossipers still gossiping?"

"Some of them are!" said Miyo indignantly. A moment later she added, sheepishly, "Sometimes."

"So who are the ones who _are_ still pestering you?"

Miyo did not answer.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Still no answer.

"This Dhiti sounds like a good one," Itsuko said thoughtfully. "A bit of a dilettante, maybe, but it sounds like her heart's in the right place. And—what's his name—Mark—"

Miyo shot to her feet. "Mark-kun!" she shouted. "What, are you crazy? If you think I'm ever going to talk to _him_ again—"

She broke off, because Itsuko was laughing. "You really are feeling better, aren't you?" Itsuko managed to say after a little.

"I am not," mumbled Miyo.

Itsuko snorted. "Of course you are. Three days ago, you'd probably have burst into tears. Today, you bite my head off." She shot Miyo a sly look. "So, you like this Mark, huh?"

"No!"

"Oh, _that_ much, eh? So what's he like?"

"He's—" Miyo broke off, and sighed. "He's tall, he has black hair, he—well, he looks a lot like Mamoru, actually. If he wasn't a Claver, anyway."

"He does?" Itsuko mulled this over. She wasn't sure that she liked the sound of it. "Do you think it's a coincidence? If Mamoru was reborn as a Claver—"

"I _hope_ it's a coincidence," Miyo said flatly. "I mean, think about it. It just wouldn't be fair…to bring him back without _her_."

Itsuko thought about it, and winced. "Still, maybe we should ask Artemis to check him out," she said.

"I already asked him. He won't. He says that if it _is_ Mamoru, it's kinder to let him stay without his memories."

"That's—" Itsuko paused. "Damn." They had all had a bit of a crush on Mamoru, back in the twentieth century, but most of them could read the writing on the wall. For Itsuko—for Rei—it had gone a little further. "And you like him, and he obviously likes you…"

"No!" Miyo shot Itsuko a beseeching look. "I mean…I _can't_ like him. It wouldn't be right. Don't you see?"

Itsuko shook her head. "That's one fine mess you've got yourself there, girl. I don't know what to say. Except…be careful."

"You think I don't know that?" Miyo scowled. "Can we change the subject, please?"

"Whatever you say," Itsuko replied. She considered going back to Miyo's problems at school, but decided to let it rest. If she pushed it too hard, Miyo would just get angry and make it all ten times harder. Instead she said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Ochiyo-chan's on late duty tonight, so she'll be sleeping over, up here. Do you mind if she shares your room?"

"Nah, that's okay. Does she snore?"

"I have no idea." Itsuko laughed. "She's going mad, trying to figure you out, though. I told the staff that you're the daughter of an old family friend, but some of them saw you come in on Tuesday evening. They're all pretty curious. I'm going to have to think of some kind of better story to explain you…"

Miyo rolled her eyes. "I—" She stopped suddenly. "Wait a moment. Turn the viddy up."

Puzzled, Itsuko did so. The news program was still running; the announcer was saying, "—statement issued by Dr Fukuda today, the Serenity Council has issued an open invitation to the Sailor Senshi to meet with them. Dr Fukuda said that he looked forward to meeting with the Senshi to discuss their future role in national affairs."

The screen changed to show the chairman of the Council, standing outside the Council chambers. A slight, balding man wearing a dark suit and heavy gloves, he smiled at the camera and said, "I think it's time that we meet with the Senshi and discover what they're here for—why they've come back, and whether they intend to re-establish Crystal Tokyo. This is a very exciting time for us all—perhaps we'll be able to offer national assistance against these crystalline monsters that the Senshi are fighting—"

Miyo cut off the sound. Her eyes were very wide. "Forget Mark-kun and Ochiyo-san," she said. "What are we going to do about _that_?"

-

* * *

-

"I don't see what's so urgent about this," Beth grumbled as she walked down the street, Bendis in her arms. "I mean, training is training, but what's the hurry?"

"Maybe I think you're getting out of practice," Bendis said, in an irritating I-know-something-you-don't-know kind of way. "Come on, hurry up, will you? We're going to be late."

"Late for what? And I am _not_ out of practice."

"Yeah? Who missed the last battle, then? _I_ was there."

"That wasn't my fault," Beth protested. "If you'd given me my communicator I'd have been there!" She stared down at Bendis, trying to frown convincingly. "Did you manage to find it yet?"

Bendis gave a nervous cough. "Never mind that now," she said. "Look, just hurry up, will you? I want to get to the training ground before—I mean, we have a lot to get through tonight, and—"

"I know, I know, you don't want to be late. Honestly, you make it sound as if we're meeting somebody."

Beth hurried on, still arguing with Bendis. Quite why the cat was insisting that she needed such urgent training was beyond her; but then Bendis did love to be mysterious. Beth decided to simply add this to the list of little puzzles she had to solve about what was happening to her.

This was the second new puzzle today, actually. Earlier, when she'd come home from seeing 'Icewalker III', she'd found out that somebody had been around to pick up a book that Beth was pretty sure she didn't have. What was more, whoever it was had called herself Hyogano Tsurara, and that didn't make any sense at _all_. Sometimes Beth wondered if it was just her, or if everyone's life was this peculiar.

Eventually they reached their destination, only five minutes late: the deserted warehouse yard where she usually trained. Beth eyed the fences warily. They didn't look easy to climb. It would have been far simpler to arrive as Venus and simply jump over, as she'd always done before; but for some reason (again!) Bendis was quite insistent about her coming as herself today. Maybe this was supposed to be a drill on quick changes, or something.

A few minutes later, at the expense of several new scrapes and some interesting bruises, she made it over the fence, and walked over to a piece of reasonably clean junk to sit down and catch her breath.

Something moved behind her.

She looked around, her heart in her mouth…and froze in surprise when she saw what it was.

"Iku-chan?" she said, dumbfounded. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Beth-san?" Iku sounded just as startled. "I—I don't—I mean, I didn't…" She stuttered to a stop, her face crimson. "I didn't think anybody else was going to be here," she muttered feebly.

"But—" Beth came to a rather awkward halt herself. She didn't know what to say. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't do any training here, that was obvious. And things could get difficult if Iku started asking questions about why she had broken into this place—

No, wait a minute, Iku had broken in too! What on earth was going on here?

She looked around for Bendis. She'd had to put the cat down to climb over the fence, and Bendis had said she'd make her own way in. Where had she gotten to this time?

"I…er…" Iku fumbled with the words for a long time before finally bursting out, with more force than Beth had ever heard her use, "Beth-san, what are _you_ doing here? I—I mean, I was supposed to…to meet…that is…" She wound down to a halt again, looking frustrated and nervous.

"Huh?" said Beth. "Who were you supposed to meet _here_? What are you here for, anyway?"

"Why don't you show her, Iku-san?" came a new voice. Bendis strolled out from behind a rusty iron boiler, tail high, whiskers groomed, looking very smug and self-satisfied.

"Bendis! What are you _doing_?" shouted Beth.

"Bendis! You're here!" said Iku at the same moment.

They stared at each other.

"Go ahead, Iku-san," said Bendis casually. "It's all right. Show her."

Iku stared at Beth, and then at Bendis, for a few seconds more. Then, suddenly abashed, she lowered her eyes. "I thought it was supposed to be a secret," she mumbled.

"It's all right this time," Bendis told her. "Go on, now!"

Iku nodded reluctantly. Then she pulled a small object out; Beth couldn't quite make out where she'd gotten it from. It looked strangely familiar. She held it up in the air, and spoke four words. And the yard filled with light and sound. And when Beth could see again—

"Iku-chan?" said Beth, stunned. "Iku-chan, _you're_ Sailor Mars?"

Mars looked up at her quickly, and then away again. "I'm sorry," she muttered guiltily.

"No!" Beth shouted. "No, that's great! I thought—I mean, I was starting to think I'd _never_ get to meet any of the others!" She looked over at Bendis quickly. "Bendis, should I—?"

Bendis nodded. Beth pulled out her own henshin wand and said, "Venus power, make-up!" Her own power filled the air about her—the colours and the surging energy, the sharp, electric smell, and the tingling feeling all over her body as strange forces shaped her, remoulded her into what she always should have been—and in another moment, Sailor Venus stood looking at her companion.

Her companion stared back at her, dumbfounded. "Beth-san?" she said. "Is that you?"

"Isn't this _cool_?" said Venus excitedly. "Wow, Iku-chan, I never thought it'd be you! I mean, you know, you're always so quiet. Hey, I wonder if maybe you're going to be the brainy one, like Lady Mizuno—the new Mercury's got the computer thingummy, but she doesn't seem to use it much—Bendis, how did you _find_ her? Oh, this is so great, we can train together and everything—maybe we should come up with a secret handshake or something—boy, wouldn't Nanako-chan be spitting nails if she knew about this—"

Mars simply looked at her. "What?" she said nervously as Venus paused for breath.

"Pay no attention," Bendis muttered to her. "She's always like this."

"How did it happen?" Venus went on, ignoring them. The smile on her face was so wide that it almost hurt. At last, at last she wasn't being left out any more, at last she was getting to work with other Senshi! "Tell me everything!" she demanded. "When did you find out? How did Bendis spot you?"

Bendis jumped down from the crate she was sitting on and said, "Never mind that just now. We have more important things to worry about. Sailor Mars, I'm sure you're aware of the monster attacks that are happening in Third Tokyo. We need to get you up to speed on combat techniques and other training, so Venus and I are going to work with you on a special accelerated training system."

Venus winked at Mars, who was looking more and more bewildered with every word that Bendis spoke. "Don't worry," she said. "There's nothing to it, I promise. Hey, watch this! VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!"

She fired her chain out and caught a wooden crate, flipping it toward them and bringing it down a few metres away. It hit rather hard, with a splintering sound. "Whoops," Venus said. "Wait, let me try that again…"

"Never mind," said Bendis, sighing. "This will do for a start. Mars, I want to see what kind of firepower you can raise. Try burning that crate, will you?"

Mars stared down at her for a moment, clearly baffled. "How do I—" she began.

Bendis sighed again. "Look, you take aim at the crate and—"

"What do you mean, 'how?'" interrupted Venus. "Don't you just _know_? I thought we all just, you know, automatically learned our attacks!"

"This from the girl who still can't get 'Crescent Beam' to work," muttered Bendis.

"Hey!" Venus picked Bendis up by the scruff of the neck and held the cat up, looking her directly in the eyes. "You can't work out why that doesn't work either, remember?"

"Let me go!"

"Look, just try it, Iku-chan, all right?" suggested Venus, dropping Bendis casually. "Oops. Mars, I mean."

Mars looked down at the crate dubiously, but raised her hands in what looked to Venus like a very shaky parody of an attack stance. She stared down at the crate for a few seconds, and then—

—Venus saw the sudden light of recognition in her eyes—

—she shouted, "BURNING MANDALA!"

There was a sudden flash: a wink of light, as if some vastly powerful searchlight had shone down on the yard for a fraction of a second. With a curious hissing sound, lines of fire etched themselves in the ground, forming a complex helical pattern around the crate. The lines shifted, began to converge, gradually at first but then faster and faster, spiralling crazily in toward the core—

There was a smoky "foof."

"Interesting," murmured Bendis. "That wasn't _anything_ like Lady Hino's 'Burning Mandala' attack. I wonder why not?"

"Hey, this crate is barely singed!" complained Venus.

"Umm…sorry?" ventured Mars.

"I can see we're going to have our work cut out for us," sighed Bendis. "I'm just glad nobody was watching that…"

- - -

The lights were off in one of the nearby warehouses, but their voices carried quite well. As the sound reached a certain level, a small device attached to the wall activated itself. A tiny red light began to flash regularly. It disturbed one of the flies that were crawling about over the outstretched hands of the caretakers.

The fly took to the air, buzzing aimlessly around the room for a few seconds and passing over a mass of pictures of Sailor Venus that were scattered across the floor. Then the fly came in to land again—this time on a face. There were quite a few other flies there already, mostly about the eyes and mouth.

Yoshimitsu and Takamori weren't watching Venus practice this time. They weren't taking any more photographs, either.

- - -

Itsuko shot to her feet with a cry, as if pricked with a pin, startling Miyo and Artemis. "There!" she shouted. "There it is again!"

"What?" said Miyo, startled. "I didn't hear anything…"

"Somebody is using the Mars Power," said Itsuko grimly. Her eyes were distant; she kept on turning her head this way and that, as if trying to pick a direction. "I can feel it."

"Using the…you mean Sailor—" Miyo caught her breath, seeing the look on Itsuko's face. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry…"

"Sailor Mars, yes," Itsuko replied. "She's arrived…just as Setsuna said." There was a slight edge of bitterness in her voice as she repeated, "I can feel it." Gradually, her eyes came to rest as she spoke. She raised her arm and pointed south-east. "That way, I think. A long way off—maybe a few kilometres."

"There must be another attack going on," said Artemis sharply. "Miyo, you'd better call Dhiti-san and Suzue-san."

"But where do I tell them to go?" asked Miyo.

Artemis hesitated. "Itsuko, can't you pin it down any closer?"

"No," Itsuko said, frustrated. "Not from here." She frowned. "Look…I'll take you. That's the only way. If you two come in the car with me, I can give you better directions as we go, and Miyo, you can relay them to the girls. As long as I stay out of sight when we get there, it should be all right."

"I could just carry you," Miyo suggested. "It might be faster."

Itsuko shook her head. "Too awkward, and much chance we'd be seen."

That was an excuse, of course, and Miyo and Artemis probably knew it. But she didn't want to have to tell them that she didn't think she could take being carried by a Sailor Senshi without breaking down entirely.

They didn't argue, thankfully. The three rushed downstairs to the car park.

- - -

"Come on, give it another go," Venus urged. "It's not that hard, really. Your sense of balance ought to be terrific. It's really just a matter of timing. Look, I'll show you—"

She took three steps back, and then suddenly ran forward; leaped up onto the roof of a nearby building; bounced smoothly to another roof (with a double somersault in mid-air); launched herself head-first down from there, catching herself on a protruding metal pole just before she hit the ground; spun three times around the pole, flipping herself up into the air again; touched a wall feet-first, and kicked off it, pushing herself back in the opposite direction, still travelling upward and spinning like a whirlwind; straightened out in mid-air and arced downward again in a perfect swan dive; caught hold of a rusting old crane; slipped, yelped, and plummeted; and rolled in mid air and landed on all fours, catlike, in a pile of debris, sending a spectacular shower of rubbish flying all around.

"Ow," she said distinctly. Then, as if nothing had happened, she got up again, brushing herself off casually, and said, "There. You see?"

"Umm…" said Mars, dazed.

"Very pretty," said Bendis. "But all she's supposed to be doing is practising jumping up onto the roof. As I recall, you had trouble with that too, to start with."

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Venus airily. "Like you told me, just go with the flow. Just follow your instincts. Roofs are boring. This is much more fun!"

"Instincts?" said Mars. She sounded horrified.

Bendis said, "Look, Sailor Mars…just try it again. _Just_ the jumping onto a roof. Please?"

Mars stepped up to a building reluctantly and looked up at the roof. From her expression, she didn't have much confidence in the outcome. She bent her knees, took a deep, audible breath that sounded like a gasp, and jumped up. She made it perhaps half-way up to the roof, then lost her balance and windmilled her way down again, bleating in fear. She landed in an ungainly heap at the foot of the wall.

"I don't understand," Bendis said softly to Venus. "What's wrong with her? She's a Senshi, right enough, and when I checked her out she certainly seemed strong enough. But this…" She trailed off helplessly.

"Kind of sad, huh?" said Venus, just as quietly. They watched Mars try again. This time she made it almost all the way up; at the top of her jump, she managed to grab hold of the edge, and hung from it, kicking her legs awkwardly. "It's as if…everything she is normally, just gets more so when she's Mars. She can't jump, she can't hit…her attack would barely light a newspaper…"

"Yeah, it's not a pretty sight, is it?" said someone else behind her. Venus turned, startled, and saw a woman in jeans and a sweatshirt, watching Mars try again.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Venus asked.

"Me?" The woman sounded surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry. Look, don't mind me. Just pretend I'm not here."

"Um," said Venus. "I don't think I—"

The woman smiled. "After all, you've got much more to worry about."

Venus blinked. That didn't sound too friendly. "Like what?" she asked cautiously.

"Like that," the woman said, pointing. Venus followed her arm, but saw nothing out of place. Mars was just getting to her feet again; apart from that, the yard was just as it had always been—

Then, with a roar, the wall of one of the nearby buildings burst open, and something came marching through.

It looked like something out of a technologist's nightmare: a fantastic Heath Robinson device, all rods and levers and pulleys and cogs, pistons and flywheels and parts she couldn't name. It had arms and legs of a sort, spindly-looking things that shouldn't have been able to support its weight. It looked like parts of a dozen machines had been thrown together randomly and welded in place. It should have fallen to pieces at the first movement. Instead it ponderously advanced, step by step, whining and creaking—

Flakes of rust fell. She saw the glitter of crystal underneath.

It was heading toward Mars, but moving very slowly. She saw Bendis streaking to Mars' side, and relaxed a fraction. She looked back at the woman. "You—" Then she stopped.

The woman in jeans and sweatshirt was gone. In her place was a very different figure, dressed in what looked like a midnight-blue jumpsuit, with silver chains at the wrists and belt. In her forehead, a huge crystal throbbed and pulsed with light.

Venus took an involuntary step backward. "Who _are_ you?"

The woman, if that was what she was, seemed taken aback. "The others haven't told you?" she said. Then she laughed. "Well, it doesn't matter. My name is Legion. That will do."

Venus stared at her, frowning, then shook her head in disgust. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she announced. "But who cares?" Suddenly grinning, she adopted a dramatic pose. "Interrupting a Senshi's training exercise is inexcusable, and cannot be tolerated! I am the lovely sailor-suited warrior Sailor Venus, and on behalf of the planet Venus I will—"

The woman reached out and slapped her.

It felt like a sledgehammer. The blow lifted her off her feet, flinging her back against a massive, half-dismantled industrial crane. She felt a stunning impact, and for a second or two the world seemed to swim around her. When it solidified again, she saw the bejewelled woman staring down at her in contempt.

Contempt. That was irritating. It was downright infuriating, in fact. Who did this gaudy bimbo think she was dealing with?

She sat up, not without a certain amount of difficulty. Nothing seemed to hurt too badly. Good. "Not bad," she said though clenched teeth. "But try this. VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!"

The Chain spun forth, arcing and cracking, and wrapped itself effortlessly around the woman, pinning her arms to her sides. Venus stood up, rubbing her back, and smirked at her opponent. She hadn't actually cast the chain from a seated position before; it had worked better than she'd expected.

"Well?" she said. "Nothing to say?"

The woman sighed, and shook her head. "This is depressingly easy," she said. With that, she shimmered and disappeared. The Chain settled to the ground and vanished.

"Hey!" yelled Venus. "Come back here!"

"All right," a voice whispered in her ear. And the hammer-blow struck her again, and sent her smashing head-first into a solid metal beam.

The pain was unbelievable. The world turned black around her, then came back tinged with red. Venus rolled over, shaking her head to clear it, and groaned as the motion sent dagger-blades of agony through her skull.

She heard footsteps hehind her, approaching leisurely. She tried to get up again, but her arms did not want to obey.

No. No. No, this was ridiculous. It wasn't supposed to work this way; she was the hero, she was Sailor Venus, she couldn't be defeated so easily. She couldn't, it just wasn't possible.

Get up, she had to get up—oh, please, help me get up—

"Still not finished?" said that voice. It was right over her, the woman was standing right _over_ her, she had to move _now_ but she couldn't do it, she couldn't—

She heard someone shouting. The words seemed to come from a long way away.

"BURNING MANDALA!"

The hiss of flame.

Laughter.

"Is that the best you can do?" the woman mocked. "Oh, this is pitiful! I thought I was coming here to fight two Senshi, not two little girls barely out of kindergarten! Sailor Jupiter and Mercury and that new one, Uranus, at least they were _competent_! You two…you are just _pathetic_!"

"No," whispered Venus. "No. You don't call me pathetic. I'm a hero. You don't do that." With a supreme effort she managed to get to her hands and knees. The beam was right in front of her, smeared with blood. It made a convenient hand-hold. She staggered to her feet, swaying, barely conscious…and raised her hands in an attack posture.

"Ready?" she managed to say.

The woman looked at her, almost kindly. With a sudden start, Venus realised that she wasn't standing on the ground; she was floating a few centimetres in the air.

"I'm really very impressed," said her enemy. "Really. But I don't think we need to prolong this any further."

She lifted a hand to strike. And as the blow was launched, Venus dodged lightly to one side and closed in for the kill…

That was her plan. But she was moving so slowly; her body refused to obey her, and the blow landed squarely in her forehead, and the world became filled with strange colours and

- - -

Bendis saw Sailor Venus go down for the third time, and knew she wasn't getting up again. That left only her…and Sailor Mars.

She had a very bad feeling about this.

Perhaps there was still time to call for help, she thought desperately. If she could get Mars' communicator out of storage and call the other Senshi—

Then she looked up and saw the vitrimorph closing in, and knew it was a vain hope.

The monster wasn't moving slowly any more. It was big, heavy, still insanely spindly-looking but undoubtedly a lot stronger than it looked…and it was _fast_. It lashed one limb at Mars, who gasped incoherently and tried to dodge. One foot skidded and she fell backward. The blow passed just overhead.

If it had been a calculated move it would have been quite good; but Bendis knew that it wasn't calculated. Mars wouldn't be able to repeat it, and that meant…the next blow wouldn't miss.

"Run!" she shouted. "Don't just lie there, _run_! You can go faster than it can! Keep moving!"

Mars tried to obey. She stumbled to her feet and lurched into an awkward, stumbling run. Her speed increased dramatically as the vitrimorph struck at her again. Maybe this could work after all—

To Bendis' horror, the vitrimorph simply increased its own speed. It was going just as fast as Mars was, and what if it could go faster yet? This yard wasn't all that big, and when Mars had to turn a corner it would have her.

Sailor Mars had other ideas. As she approached a wall, she slowed for an instant, and then jumped. Bendis felt a sudden hope; if she could make it to the roof, the vitrimorph wouldn't be able to follow…

But this attempt was no better than the last. She landed sprawling at the foot of the wall, and when she looked up the vitrimorph was almost on top of her.

"No!" she shouted in terror. "Burning Mandala!"

A shower of sparks danced uselessly off the vitrimorph's body. It raised its arm to strike. Mars wailed in terror and closed her eyes.

"Hold," said a voice quietly.

The vitrimorph froze. The woman with the jewel in her head walked slowly out to join her monster. She stared down at Mars, and shook her head.

"Pitiful," she said. "Venus at least had some courage. If she'd been thinking about what she was doing, she might actually have had a chance. But _you_…"

With a frown, she said, "No. Inexperience is no excuse. The others have all done far better, even during their first battles. _You_ are simply afraid to try."

She sighed. "I think an object lesson is called for." Then she turned away, an oddly rueful expression on her face. "Do it," she ordered.

With a metallic sound of triumph, the vitrimorph ground back to life. Bendis watched, horrified, unable to help. Its arm lifted once more, and paused for an instant, mockingly, glinting in the sun. Sailor Mars covered her eyes and screamed in despair. The blow slammed down—

"SUPREME THUNDER!"  
"ICE SPEAR!"  
"MUSIC OF THE SPHERES!"

Three blows struck home simultaneously from three different directions. There was a rending noise like the tearing of metal, coupled with the sound of shattering glass. The air was filled with shards of crystal.

When Bendis could open her eyes again, she saw the three Senshi walking slowly across the yard toward the woman in blue. For one blurred instant she thought they were ten feet tall. They looked like the avatars of some ancient, beautiful, deadly power. They looked like goddesses.

They looked pissed off.

"Have you," said Jupiter, "any last words?"

The blue woman wiped a trickle of blood from her forehead, where a splinter of crystal had struck her. Her face lit up in a broad grin. "What-ho," she said. "The fifth cavalry arrives."

Jupiter ignored this magnificently. "Mercury, if she starts to disappear again, hit her," she ordered. Mercury gave a quick acknowledgement, which Jupiter seemed to ignore as well.

"Damn you," she whispered to their enemy. "What do you _want_?"

"Want?" enquired the woman sardonically. "Why, a good job at steady pay…a husband and two children…a summer house by the ocean…who could want more than that?" Her grin became dark, malicious. "Or maybe I came in answer to an invitation." She pulled something out and tossed it to the ground at Jupiter's feet.

From where Bendis was standing, she could just make it out. It was a blurred photograph of Sailor Venus, firing her Love-Me Chain up into the air. Jupiter glanced at it quickly, and then back up again.

"Some people," observed the woman, "just can't help talking when they have a really big secret." She winked. "But you needn't worry about that, not any more. I took care of it for you."

"I think," Jupiter said slowly, "that I've heard about enough of this." She took a deep breath, and raised her hands. "Once again," she said, "—Any last words?"

The woman laughed. "Look to your own," she said. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

After a moment, Jupiter lowered her hands. "Damn," she said. But Bendis thought she looked relieved.

"Sorry," said Mercury, moving to her side. "She disappeared so fast, I couldn't—"

"Never mind," Jupiter answered, rubbing her forehead wearily. "Take a look at—what, Sailor Mars, I suppose. See how badly she's hurt, will you? I have to—I have to think about this."

"Would you have killed her?" asked Mercury, so softly that Bendis could barely hear.

"Would I have had a choice?"

Bendis moved away from the pair, not wanting to hear any more. She saw Uranus kneeling at Venus' side and ran toward them, suddenly furious at herself for forgotting her charge. If Beth was dead—

But Sailor Venus was already stirring. As Uranus did what she could to help, she opened her eyes, blinked at her, and said, "Oh. Hello. Did we win?"

Uranus appeared taken aback. "Uh, yes," she began.

"That's good." Venus rubbed her eyes. "You aren't my aunt, are you?"

Bendis breathed a sigh of relief, and rather sadistically left Uranus to try and cope. Venus was obviously recovering, that was the main thing. It would probably do Uranus good to try and handle her, anyway; that girl was a little too serious for her own good.

That left Mars. But when she headed over to the wall where the Senshi of Fire was lying, she saw that the girl was sitting up again. Her face was pale and she looked close to tears, but she was apparently unharmed. The other three had arrived just barely in time.

"Are you all right?" Mercury was saying to her. "It didn't hurt you, did it?"

Mars was clearly flustered by the attention. Really, what was the _matter_ with her? "I—no, it—that is—" She gave up, and shook her head nervously.

Mercury brightened. "Oh, you're the talkative type, are you? That's good, I need a straight man." She reached out a hand to help a very confused Mars up. "You stick with me, girl, you're going to make me a star."

Bendis gave up. Everyone was obviously all right, and what was she getting so concerned about? They were Senshi, of course they were all right. (That Mercury, though…was she for real? The idea of her and Venus in the same room together made Bendis unaccountably nervous.) She breathed a sigh, sat down and began to smooth her ruffled fur. This hadn't been quite the evening she'd planned, but perhaps it wasn't a _total_ disaster after all.

Then she heard a very familiar voice shouting, "Bendis? Where are you? I know you're here somewhere!" and changed her mind.

She looked around wildly, trying to see where Artemis' voice had come from. Taking a guess, she whirled and ran in the opposite direction. If he caught her now, she would be in _so_ much trouble…

She dodged around a stack of rusting machine parts, ducked under an abandoned truck, ran down a short alleyway between two buildings, and made for the fence. There was a gap that she could squeeze through not far from here, and if she could reach that she'd be away free—no, wait a minute, she'd gotten herself turned around, the gap was in _that_ direction and she was…

She was in a dead end, she realised frantically. As she started to turn back, she heard somebody drop lightly to the ground, right behind her.

"Gotcha!" said Artemis.

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
**END OF CHAPTER EIGHT**

**Next:** The five are together at last; and the story of the fall of Crystal Tokyo.

- - -

Thanks to my pre-readers: Sandy Drobic, Bob Schroeck and David Farr.


	10. Chapter 9: Crystal Fall

**What has gone before:** In the year 3478 Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in an as-yet unexplained disaster. Queen Serenity and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the invaders. Civilisation fell; a new dark age began. Now, in the year 4200, a new world order has risen, centred on the city of Third Tokyo and ruled by the shadowy Serenity Council.

Artemis survived the final battle; now he and his great-granddaughter Bendis are searching for a new generation of Senshi. Working separately after a violent argument, the two gradually succeed: Bendis finds Sailor Venus (McCrea Beth) and Mars (Kodama Iku); while Artemis locates Jupiter (Hayashi Miyo), Mercury (Sharma Dhiti) and Uranus (Itagaki Suzue).

The first exploits of the Senshi are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction: some people hate them; others want to worship them. The Council, who are already searching for Bendis, create "vitrimorphs"—sinister, crystalline monsters designed to hunt Senshi, under the command of Twelve, a Council member who has been given strange powers by the unseen Master who rules the Council.

Meanwhile, two other survivors of Crystal Tokyo have become involved: Pappadopoulos Itsuko (previously known as Hino Rei), and Fumihiko Sadako (once Meiou Setsuna). Itsuko, now powerless, lives quietly as the owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. The Olympus comes under Council investigation when Itsuko tries to aid Artemis, and to preserve the secret of her past Itsuko seeks help from an old friend with criminal connections; but this only makes the investigators more suspicious.

Artemis learns that Miyo is actually Kino Makoto, now reborn into her third lifetime. When her family learn her secret, they are shocked; her father formally disowns her, and she moves into the Olympus with Itsuko. At the same time, a new attack by Twelve finally brings the two teams of Senshi together…

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER NINE  
Crystal Fall:  
Times Past and Times Changing**

- - -

"So," said Dhiti. "This is where you live now."

Miyo nodded, sitting down at the table. "So what do you think?"

Dhiti shrugged, affecting nonchalance. "Nice enough place, I suppose," she said. "But—well, a gymnasium? That's kind of weird, Hayashi, even for you."

"So sorry," said Miyo acerbically. "I'll just go and find somewhere else to live, shall I?"

"No, no! This is…well, it suits you."

"Uh—" There was a slight pause as Miyo tried to decide whether this was a compliment or not. In the end she gave up. "Thanks," she said.

Dhiti was clearly being diplomatic, in any case. This place—this room, at least—did not suit Miyo…yet.

They were in Miyo's room at the Olympus. It was a little larger than she'd had before, and bright and cheerful; there was a big window that looked out over the city, flooding the room with morning light. But by comparison to her room at her parents' house it looked almost empty. The shelves of romantic novels were missing; there was no sign of the neat pile of binders that Miyo used to keep her favourite recipes (and the ones she'd created herself); and above all, there were almost no plants here. A cluster of cuttings in tiny pots showed that she'd made a start at remedying that lack; but it would be some time before she had anything approaching the profusion of greenery she'd had before.

"No probs," said Dhiti nonchalantly. She sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Miyo and leaned back, stretching her arms. Then she gave Miyo a sharp look; and the good humour suddenly vanished from her face. "So, Hayashi," she said. "How're you holding up?"

Miyo shifted uncomfortably. "I—well, I'm—" She fumbled a little before finally saying, "I'm fine, I guess. I…look, I'd really rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

"Uh-huh." Dhiti nodded slowly. "So, how long do you think before the others get here? It's going to be weird, having five at a meeting. Oh, and by the way, how _are_ you holding up?"

"Look, can't you take a hint?" Miyo burst out. "I don't want to talk about it, all right! I don't—" She stopped suddenly. Dhiti did not flinch or look away. "Oh—hell," she said at last. The anger faded from her voice, to be replaced by resignation. "Look, I have good days and bad days, all right? That enough, or do you want more? Yesterday was…not so good. After we got back from that warehouse, Itsuko had to go down to the offices, and Artemis took Bendis off to yell at her some more, and I…" She looked down. "I tried to call my parents."

"Oh, no." Dhiti tried to bite the words back, in vain.

Miyo showed no reaction. Perhaps she did not hear. She went on, almost mechanically, "I got my mother. I said, 'Hello, okaasan.' She didn't say anything. I heard her start to cry. Then she hung up."

"Oh, no." Dhiti didn't quite say it this time; but the words hung in the air between them regardless.

"So…yesterday was a pretty bad day." Miyo gave a forced smile. "But who knows? Maybe today will be good. If I can just manage to concentrate on this meeting, and forget about…all the rest. So, now, can we change the subject, _please_?"

"Sorry." Dhiti could not meet her eye. She cleared her throat unnecessarily, visibly groping for another topic, and finally said, with a forced smile, "Um…I was thinking it's funny, the way we always end up meeting at your place, even when—well, you know."

Miyo shrugged, ignoring the gaffe. "Can you see us going to your place? Your father didn't like me _before_. When he hears I've been thrown out, I'm _sure_ he's going to change his mind, right? And Suzue-san's place would be—" She hesitated. "Well, look how she got when we were talking about it last meeting. All funny about her family."

"Maybe they're really wealthy or something, and she doesn't think they'd approve of us," suggested Dhiti. "Hey, don't look at me like that! It could be! You remember how she was dressed on Tuesday."

"Yes, but—" Miyo sighed. "Oh, well. It could be. Anyway, here seemed convenient, and it'll be a bit more private than…you know." She sighed again at the memory.

"Pappadopoulos-san doesn't mind, I take it?" inquired Dhiti. Miyo shook her head. "Right. Now she _definitely_ must be loaded, to own a place like this. Hey—" A frown crossed her face. "This Pappadopoulos-san, she wouldn't be the 'Itsuko' that you and Artemis were being so coy about on Tuesday, would she?"

"Um. Yes," Miyo answered reluctantly.

"So, you know the owner of one of the most successful health clubs in Third Tokyo…well enough that you can move in with her when you get thro—well, um. Sorry. So what is she, an old family friend?"

"I've known her for a while, yes," said Miyo truthfully.

"I just hope your parents don't make any trouble, that's all—oh, damn, I'm sorry, I did it again—"

Miyo sighed. Having Dhiti try to stay away from the topic was almost worse than just talking about it outright. "It's all right," she said patiently.

"Sorry," Dhiti mumbled again. "I just wish I had your connections, that's all. This Pappadopoulos-san must be so rich—hey, wait a minute!" She stared at Miyo. "You said—no, Artemis said that she knows that you're…"

"Sailor Jupiter, yes." Artemis strolled in through the door casually. "Don't worry about it, Dhiti-san. I already told you, Itsuko can be trusted. I've known her for ages." He jumped up onto the table and sat down calmly. Then, glancing up at the clock on Miyo's dresser, he added, "What's keeping everybody else? They said they'd be here by now."

"There's still five minutes to go," Dhiti pointed out, glancing at her watch. "Don't be so impa—" She stopped, staring at Artemis. "Quite a coincidence, you _both_ having known this Itsuko for a long time."

Artemis shot her a quick look. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" he said, a little too casually.

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate riddles?" asked Dhiti meaningfully.

"Once or twice," said Miyo. "Look, Dhiti-chan, I'm sorry. I've asked Itsuko if I can tell you about—about her. She said she's thinking about it. I know it's not fair, but…but, well, she does have her reasons."

Dhiti was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Does she know about me? Who I am?"

Miyo and Artemis looked at each other. Neither spoke.

"Is she going to want to be at this meeting?"

Miyo hesitated. "I doubt it—" she began.

"Probably not," said Artemis at the same time. "I think she'd find that…well, uncomfortable. Which is a pity, in a way—"

"_She'd_ find it uncomfortable?" demanded Dhiti incredulously. "What about _us_? What is this? Why don't you just give her a henshin wand and have done with it? Maybe she can be Sailor Pluto, if she likes being so mysterious. Always assuming there is a Sailor Pluto, state secret or not." She shot a look at Miyo, who looked guilty.

"State secret?" said Artemis, puzzled. "What are you talking about? Pluto keeps a low profile, sure, but she's perfectly real. I saw her, Friday before last."

"She is?" said Dhiti, distracted for a moment.

"You did?" said Miyo at the same time.

They glanced at each other. In other circumstances it would have been funny. "Now who's keeping secrets from who?" muttered Dhiti.

"I'm sorry," said Artemis to Miyo. "It just…never came up, that's all. It was only for a few moments, anyway—she dropped a few cryptic hints, as usual, then took off—"

"She survived the Fall," murmured Miyo. "It figures she would."

"Yes, and maybe someday we'll be able to persuade her to tell us why she just disappeared like that," Artemis added grimly. "Or why she didn't warn anybody about what was coming. Look, this is beside the point. Dhiti-san, I'm not going to give Itsuko a henshin wand. She…she isn't a Senshi. She's someone who, ahh, someone who's helped me out on a number of occasions, and I think she deserves a little—"

"Forget it, Artemis," said Miyo suddenly. "Look, Dhiti-chan's right. She deserves to know. Dhiti, I—I'll tell you everything. I promise, whatever Itsuko says. After the meeting. All right?"

"Why not now?" muttered Dhiti, a little sulkily.

"Well, it's…er, kind of a long story."

"That's putting it mildly," said Artemis. "She won't be happy when she hears about this, Miyo."

"Too bad. I told you, Dhiti-chan's right. If we can't trust the other Senshi, who can we trust? They all ought to know about this."

"Let's not jump the gun," the cat urged. "All right, tell Dhiti-san if you have to, but there's no need to go making public announcements without at least checking with her first—"

There was a rap at the door, and they all jumped. Miyo went to answer it, and found Suzue standing outside. "I take it this is the right place?" she said.

"Yes," said Miyo, looking relieved at the distraction. "Come on in. We were starting to think everyone had gotten lost." She led Suzue through to her room.

"Well, I wasn't sure I had the address right," Suzue said, sitting down. "You didn't mention it was a gymnasium. I just wasn't expecting…" She trailed off, reddening.

"Umm, yeah. Sorry." Privately Miyo thought that Suzue looked more than a little out of place here. She looked…well, elegant. As at their previous meeting, she was dressed expensively, in a matching blouse and slacks that might have been tailored to fit her. The scarf around her neck was the only bright spot, though; everything else was in dark, subdued colours. Maybe she'd been depressed when she got up that morning. But did she dress this well normally, or was she trying to impress them? Or both? Miyo did not quite like to ask. Maybe Dhiti was right; maybe her family _was_ wealthy.

"It's all right," Suzue answered. She glanced around the room. "So, the other two aren't here yet? I wonder what they'll be like?"

Miyo was looking forward to finding that out herself. What with one thing and another, they'd all had to leave in a hurry after the battle in the junkyard the previous evening. All the noise and destruction must have set off burglar alarms in the nearby warehouses, and police Opals had been moving in. They'd never gotten a chance for proper introductions. And the usual disguise effect was still in place; she had no idea what Mars and Venus would look like in civilian form.

"Well, Mars seemed…" Miyo paused for a moment. Mars had seemed as though she was about to faint whenever any of them spoke to her. "The shy type," she finished tactfully. That was putting it mildly. It was hard to believe that she was Rei's—Itsuko's—successor.

"Mars?" said Dhiti, looking up. "Oh, right, the Stuttering Senshi. It was kind of cute, actually." She grinned. "Don't worry, though. I'm sure she'll work out fine." There was an odd glint in her eye. What was she planning? Miyo made a mental note to warn Mars to be very cautious about anything Dhiti told her.

"Um…we'll see," she said. Then she grinned too. "As for Venus, that's easy. Just imagine a carbon-copy of Dhiti-chan here—"

"Hey!" protested Dhiti.

"One who thinks she's a cat," Miyo finished, grinning. "You'll see. They're bound to get here soon…"

"Let's hope so," said Artemis, stretching. Suzue started at the sound of his voice. It was odd, the way she behaved around him. Sometimes she was deferential—almost subservient, even—but at other times, she treated him with an almost exaggerated familiarity, as if she were forcing herself to be casual.

Odder yet, once or twice Miyo had caught Suzue treating _her_ the same way.

She seemed normal enough for the moment, though, after that one twitch. "What happened to Bendis?" she asked.

"Out keeping an eye open for Venus and Mars," said Artemis. "After all, she's the only one who'll recognise them." He sniffed. "At least she can hardly mess _that_ up."

Miyo almost winced at the distrust in his voice. The two cats had obviously not finished settling whatever lay between them. After yesterday's battle, when Artemis led a very chastened-looking Bendis back to rejoin the five Senshi, Miyo had thought it all dealt with. Then, when he announced that Bendis was coming back with him, there'd been a shouting match with Sailor Venus that only ended when Bendis unexpectedly agreed to go. And once they got back to the Olympus, she'd heard the two of them yelling at each other several times. (Miyo had stayed well away, at Itsuko's insistence.)

What was their problem, anyway? Why couldn't they get along? Both of them refused to speak about it…

She was distracted by a light tap at the door. Suzue looked up quickly. "That could be them now," she said, a definite note of anticipation in her voice. Miyo went to get the door, and Suzue followed. With a sigh, Dhiti got up and trailed along behind them.

There was a girl of about their age, a Claver with light brown, shoulder-length hair, on the landing. She was just reaching for the door to knock again when Miyo opened it; she snatched her hand back quickly. "Umm…I was looking for, uh, Hayashi Miyo?" she said tentatively.

"That's me," said Miyo. "Come on in. You'd be one of our two…err, missing members?"

"Um, I suppose so." The girl gave a quick, shy smile. "I'm McCrea Beth. I, er, saw Bendis downstairs, and she sent me up. Ahh…hi."

Miyo breathed a silent sigh of relief. All right, that was easy enough: timid, fidgety, diffident; she was even wearing a red shirt. She had to be Sailor Mars. That only left Venus to come.

She took a good look at the girl. A Claver; that surprised her, though rationally she could not think why it should. She looked pretty nervous, but at the same time expectant. That was natural enough. Miyo was feeling more than a little nervous herself. After more than a thousand years working with her friends—with the old Senshi—it was a wrench to try and adjust to so many new names and new faces in the old costumes. Dhiti had been her friend already, when her memories re-awoke; but Suzue was an unknown to her, still something of a cipher, and now there was this new girl, and another one due in just a few moments…

She shook herself mentally. This was no time to go bemoaning the good old days; she thought she'd managed to cure herself of that.

"Come on through," she said with a smile, trying to make the girl feel more at ease.

They trooped back to Miyo's room, where Miyo performed introductions. "So," she said finally, "that just leaves one, and then we can get started."

"I'm sure Iku-chan will be here soon," said Beth hesitantly. "She can be a little…umm, nervous about strangers, but—"

"Really? Nervous?" said Miyo, surprised. The last thing Venus had ever seemed to her was nervous. Oh, well, it could happen to anyone, she supposed. Maybe she overcompensated; maybe that was why she seemed so over-the-top…

"Oh, yes," Beth replied earnestly. "You must have noticed, last night."

Nervous? Miyo thought back. Venus _had_ seemed a little spaced-out. "I thought she was just dazed," she said.

"Well, maybe," Beth answered doubtfully. "Anyway, I'm sure she'll be here soon." She gave a rather uneasy smile.

"Don't worry about it," said Dhiti cheerfully. "Come on, sit down and relax!" She waved Beth toward the table. "I promise, we can survive without her for a little bit longer."

Miyo snickered. "You just don't want the competition."

Dhiti glared at her. "There seems to be some kind of delusion going around," she said, "that Venus and I are in some way similar, when it is blindingly obvious to anybody with a grain of sense that she is as nutty as a fruitcake, whereas I am merely, umm, a little exuberant—"

"Don't be silly, Dhiti-chan, of course you're crazy," said Miyo sweetly.

"You're just saying that," grouched Dhiti. Her eyes flashed. "Anyway, you're a fine one to talk! I'm not the one who threatened to maroon her own brothers on Io—"

"You don't _have_ any brothers."

"Oh, that's right. Well—that's beside the point—"

Beth was watching them both, a little puzzled. "I suppose Sailor Venus _is_ a little…um, wild," she admitted.

Dhiti snorted. "You could put it like that," she said. "You should have seen her when we were being chased by an Opal, though. 'Wild' was not the word. Remember, Hayashi? She gave this big, crazy laugh, and jumped off a building, and went swinging away on that chain thing of hers…"

Beth gave her an odd look. "Yes, I know," she said.

"Oh, she told you about that? And there was the time before that, when we were at that fire, and she did that crazy rescue…" Dhiti tsk'd reprovingly. Then she winked at Beth. "At least you seem normal enough. It'll be nice to have someone _sane_ to be Sailor Mars."

"Look who's talking about sanity," murmured Miyo, with a faint grin.

"Mars?" said Beth, confused. "I'm not Sailor Mars."

"Can we leave out the slurs?" asked Dhiti plaintively. "I'm not…" She trailed off slowly, looking at Beth. "You're not?"

"Umm, no," said Beth. "I'm, er, Sailor Venus." She looked around at them all. "Can't you tell?" she asked, a little hopefully.

"It's the disguise field," said Miyo after a moment. "I thought—no, never mind." She did a double-take. "Wait, _you're_ Sailor Venus? And Iku-san is Mars? But that's not—"

"This is some kind of trick," declared Dhiti, adding uncertainly, "isn't it? You—don't act _anything_ like she does…"

"Well…I guess not," Beth answered glumly. "It's like—Sailor Venus is—" She fumbled to a halt, and spread her hands helplessly. "That's sort of hard to explain, actually," she said.

Artemis jumped up on the table and stared at her. "Bendis didn't do anything funny to you, did she?" he growled. "Hypnosis, or anything like that? How's your memory? Do you remember any past lives?"

"Have you been eating slugs without noticing?" added Dhiti.

"Dhiti-chan!"

"Slugs?" Beth inched a little away from Dhiti. "Bendis wouldn't do anything like that to me," she told Artemis. "And my memory's fine. I mean, I remember everything. The fire, and the man that turned into that—you know, thing. Vitrimorph. And when we were chased by that Opal. And all the rest."

Miyo scratched her head. "This has got to be some kind of mistake," she said. "I mean, you're nothing _like_ Venus—"

"That's what I said," muttered Dhiti.

"Prove it," suggested Suzue. "Show us!"

"What, in here?" said Beth doubtfully.

Miyo thought about it, and said, "Sure, why not? No—wait a moment." She got up and closed the curtains. Then she waved Beth on.

Beth shrugged, and pulled out what was unmistakably a henshin wand. It had the symbol for Venus—the circle and cross—on one end. She glanced at Miyo once more, and then, before Miyo could stop her, stood up and cried out, "VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!"

The room was filled with light and sound and energy. They saw her shift, change. And when it was finished—

"I am Sailor Venus!" Venus proclaimed, taking up a dramatic pose. "The spectacular Senshi of the Planet of Love! On behalf of the planet Venus, I will—I will—" She stopped, looking vexed. "It's no good, it's just not the same without a villain," she announced to nobody in particular.

They stared at her.

Venus shrugged, and put her henshin wand away. "Boy, you're a talkative lot all of a sudden, aren't you?" she commented. "So, what, am I supposed to just stand here? Sign autographs? Or is this some kind of audition?" Her eyes widened. "Wait a minute!" she exclaimed delightedly. "You're testing me! Of course!"

"Um—" began Miyo.

"What do you want me to do? I know, what about target practise? Watch this! VENUS LOVE-ME—" She stopped suddenly. "No, wait, Bendis gets mad when I do that inside," she said in a very different, more subdued voice. Then, just as abruptly, the manic glint was back. "I could stand on my head," she suggested. "Or I could juggle—I haven't actually tried juggling before, but it can't be that hard—has anybody got any balls? No? Well, how about—"

"That's the Sailor Venus I remember," said Dhiti firmly.

"The one and only!" agreed Venus cheerfully. "You're Mercury, right? You don't know how to juggle, do you?"

"Er, yes I do, actually. You're right, it's not that hard. You just need to—"

"Dhiti-chan!" snapped Miyo.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"I don't believe this," said Suzue. "I saw it, and I still don't believe it."

"You don't?" Venus gave her a concerned look. "Boy, that's rough. Wait a minute, who are you again? Uranus, right? Somehow I thought you'd be taller." She stared at Suzue for a moment longer, frowning a little, as if she held it against her, and then suddenly shrugged. "Oh, well, I expect it doesn't matter," she said, dropping back to her seat on the floor. Her gaze fell on Miyo, and she waved. "Hiya, obaachan," she added breezily.

Miyo started to bristle, then gave up. Somehow she didn't think it was likely to do any good.

"Artemis!" Venus exclaimed, hitching herself closer to the table, where the white cat was still staring at her. "Oh, wow, this is great, I was _so_ looking forward to meeting you! Well, I met you last night, of course, but, I mean, it's just…wow!" She beamed at the cat, and leaned forward to bump noses with him, cat-fashion, before he could react. "Hey, you're not much like you look on that viddy program, are you?" she prattled on. "Um, not that I watch it any more, of course. Do you suppose they'll want to make a new program about _us_, now? Oh, I'm so glad to meet you at last, I mean, Bendis talks about you _so_ much…"

"She does?" said Artemis, startled and a little overwhelmed.

"Well, not really, I suppose. Actually she refuses to talk about you at all, but in a way that's almost like talking about you all the time, isn't it?"

Miyo shot Venus a considering look. That had almost sounded like an intelligent thought. But buried in that constant chatter it was hard to be sure…

One thing was for certain. Beth might have been nervous, but Sailor Venus was definitely not. And whatever did that mean? It was hard to imagine a greater contrast; it was as if they were dealing with two completely different people. A Senshi with a split personality? That could make things difficult. Or was it possible that—

She felt a sudden chill.

Might it be a split personality in truth? Was it possible that, buried somewhere deep inside, there was…someone else? Was it just barely conceivable that, against all odds, an old friend of hers had somehow survived, reborn in this Claver girl?

Might it be—could it possibly be—Minako in there?

There was a lump in her throat. And Venus _had_ seemed to recognise Artemis—

_Later,_ she told herself. It was hard; she wanted to jump up and shout in excitement, but she forced herself to put it aside. _Later._ Later on, Artemis might be able to detect if it was true; but now was not the time to go into it. They would be able to speak in private after the meeting, and maybe talk to Bendis about exactly what she knew about the girl. After all, if Minako was in there, then Beth was apparently unaware of it (though she certainly seemed to know that _something_ was wrong). For now, they had other business.

She cleared her throat. Venus, who was still chattering away at Artemis, glanced up in surprise. "Do you think you could change back again?" Miyo asked.

Venus looked faintly disappointed. "Oh, well," she said, shrugging, and let her transformation lapse.

McCrea Beth sat at the table where she had been. She looked around at their faces—everyone seemed to be looking at her—and flushed scarlet. "Um," she said.

"That is just so bizarre," Dhiti said, shaking her head in wonder. "You and…and…and _her_…are so completely different!" She studied Beth, a tiny frown on her face. "What's it feel like?" she asked curiously.

Beth considered it. "It's like…like I'm me, but…but _more_. You know? Like…like…well, it's hard to describe, really," she finished, a little lamely.

"She certainly is…enthusiastic," remarked Suzue.

"Well, yeah," Beth answered. She had an oddly wistful look on her face. "Sometimes I wish…" She sighed. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"No, what?" Suzue prodded her.

Beth fidgeted. "Well, sometimes I…I wish I could be like that." She looked down at her feet. "But I'd never dare."

"It has its down-side," said Miyo dryly. "Just ask Dhiti-chan."

"Hey!" Dhiti looked at Miyo reproachfully. "You'll regret that, obaachan. I'll have you know that it doesn't have any downside at all. Can I help it if I'm perfect and everyone else is envious of me?"

"Perfect? Is that what you call it?"

Dhiti assumed a saintly expression. "You see?" she said to Beth and Suzue. "Envy. Pure envy." Beth gave a tentative grin. Suzue sighed and rolled her eyes.

Miyo took a deep breath. "You can call it envy—" she began. It was, perhaps, just as well that at that moment, there was a hesitant knock at the door.

"Ah," said Artemis. "That may be our missing Senshi at last."

Miyo snorted, cast a humorous just-you-wait look at Dhiti, and went to answer it. There was a tall girl with long black hair outside, accompanied by a small tabby cat. The girl looked upset; her body was tense, and she was playing with a strand of her hair, twisting it nervously between thumb and forefinger.

"Finally!" said the cat, looking relieved. "Hi, Miyo-san. This is Iku. Iku-san, this is Hayashi Miyo. She's Sailor Jupiter. Are the others here, Miyo-san? I sent Beth-chan up."

"Yes, they're all here," Miyo answered. "Hello, Iku-san. Nice to meet you." She smiled in welcome; and after a few seconds Iku smiled back. If it could be called a smile. It was more of a grimace.

"I'm sorry," she said in a quick, nervous voice. "I didn't mean to be late—I tried, really I did—"

"What? Hey!" Miyo stared at her, astonished. The girl actually sounded terrified. What was wrong with her? She opened her mouth to ask, and then bit the question back. At her first words, the fear had drained out of Iku's expression, to be replaced by…resignation?

She changed tack hastily. "It's okay," she said, as soothingly as she could. "It doesn't matter. Really. Nobody's upset, I promise."

"You aren't?" There was a quick flash of something on Iku's face. Hope, perhaps. But she looked so pale and shaken…

Miyo reached a quick decision. "C'mon through here," she ordered. She led Iku into the kitchen and poured her a glass of water. "Here," she said. "You look like you could use this."

Iku took it gratefully. As she drank, Miyo stepped aside and hissed to Bendis, "What the hell's wrong with her?"

"I don't know," the cat whispered back. "She had a kind of panic attack on the way up. I thought I'd never get her here."

"Is she always like this?" Miyo demanded incredulously.

"Ask Beth! I only met her yesterday myself."

"Oh, great." Miyo turned back to Iku, hoping she hadn't noticed the hurried debate. "Feeling better?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing.

Iku nodded quickly, putting the glass down. She'd only half-finished it. There was a little more colour in her cheeks, though. Her skin was actually rather dark, Miyo noticed absently, though not as dark as Dhiti's. Her features were pure Japanese, though.

"Come on," she said. "I'll introduce you to the others."

They went through to her room, where the others were waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, Miyo noticed that Bendis held back, following on behind Iku. That was actually pretty smart of the cat, she thought approvingly. Still, Iku seemed calmer now, even docile. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

What was wrong with her? What had made her so afraid? Beth had said Iku was nervous about strangers, but this went beyond nervousness.

As she stepped into her room, she was almost shaken by the contrast. Everyone there was relaxed, cheerful. Dhiti was as manic as ever; Suzue was leaning back contentedly, listening to the other two (Miyo was beginning to realise that she simply didn't talk much, though she always listened carefully to what was going on); and Beth, while she wasn't exploding the way she had as Sailor Venus, was chatting away happily enough; in fact she was—

Oh, no. She was telling Dhiti and Suzue the story about why she called Miyo 'obaasan.' And while Dhiti already knew part of it, the rapt expression on her face suggested that Miyo was in for trouble…

She cleared her throat, and the others looked up quickly. Beth cut her story short with a cough, looking faintly guilty. Dhiti made a face, and sighed. Suzue raised an eyebrow.

Iku came in after Miyo, and Beth waved to her with a smile. She gave a much more vigorous wave to Bendis as the cat followed after. Bendis bounded over to her, and Beth swept her up in her arms, saying happily, "Bendis! Where have you _been_?"

"Don't be silly," the cat answered in a slightly muffled voice. "You just saw me a few minutes ago, down on the street." She was purring rather loudly, though. In fact it almost sounded as if Beth were purring herself, but of course that was silly.

"Yes, but that hardly counted," objected Beth, somewhat nonsensically. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I missed you…"

"Ahem," said Artemis, unnecessarily loudly. "If I might interrupt for a moment?" he went on in a sarcastic tone. "We do have a meeting to run, remember?"

"Oh, right." Bendis squirmed free of Beth's arms and jumped up on the table. "All right, everyone, this is McCrea Beth—um, well, I suppose you've met Beth now, haven't you?" She brushed her whiskers quickly and padded over to Iku's side, then tried again. "All right, _this_ is Kodama Iku…Sailor Mars. Iku, this is Hayashi Miyo; she's Sailor Jupiter. And…" She hesitated, glancing at the other girls. She hadn't actually met them before, but Miyo had told her who to expect. "Um. This is Sharma Dhiti, Sailor Mercury, and Itagaki Suzue, Sailor Uranus. How's that?" Artemis made a threatening noise and she added, "Oh, yeah, and Artemis, too."

Miyo hid a smile as Artemis visibly fumed. She gave a friendly nod to Iku, as Dhiti and Suzue added their own welcomes. Now, had she managed to calm Iku down enough…?

Iku stared back at them all uncomfortably. She licked her lips nervously and said, "Um…hello?"

Miyo sighed. Suzue frowned. Beth shook her head wryly. Dhiti…

Dhiti grinned. "Hi!" she called cheerfully. "Come on over here, sit by me. Welcome to the all-Senshi basketball league." Iku stared at her, baffled, and Dhiti beckoned, still grinning. "C'mon, sit down! I won't bite you. I hardly ever bite my friends. Well, there was that one time with Hayashi, but—"

"For heaven's sake, Dhiti-chan—" began Miyo.

"Pay no attention to obaasan, it's just her arthritis acting up," went on Dhiti blithely. "Come on, sit down! There, that didn't hurt, did it? We don't electrify the floor until _next_ meeting. Don't mind the others, they stare at everyone. Boy, you _are_ a talkative one, aren't you? Did you ever think about going into public speaking? Well, it's no big deal; we'll have you up singing karaoke in no time…"

She rattled on, as Miyo groped for a way to shut her up. The poor girl was already scared half-witless, and the last thing she needed was an overdose of Dhiti. At this rate they'd be lucky if she didn't break down completely—

But just as she was about to get up and knock some sense into her best friend, she stopped. Iku was sitting next to Dhiti, staring at her, a stunned expression on her face; she was all too obviously overpowered, swamped, drowning in a sea of nonsense…

And just for a moment, helplessly, she smiled.

Miyo forced herself to relax. _Then again,_ she thought, _maybe I'll leave well enough alone._

She managed to catch Dhiti's eye for a moment. Dhiti winked.

Miyo took a deep breath. "All right," she said. "Welcome, everyone. It's good to see you all…together at last."

Together at last. That was one way of putting it. They were all in the same place at once, yes; but what sort of team was this unruly bunch going to make? A teenager with thousands of years' memory swirling around in her head; a smartass with a runaway mouth; a girl with multiple personalities, who occasionally thought she was a cat; another girl who seemed to be terrified of everything, including the universe in general; a pair of talking cats, one of them millennia old and the other hardly more than a child…at least Suzue seemed normal enough. Mostly.

She sighed, and got the meeting under way.

**-**

* * *

**-**

On a narrow back street behind the Olympus building, a big, beaten-up old van was parked. It had been there for several weeks now, and nobody even noticed it any more. It was visibly a wreck; the sides were scratched and battered, with body panels hanging loose or missing altogether, and both rear wheels were gone. Worse, it appeared that squatters had taken up residence; there was a frayed power cable hanging from the roof down to a nearby charging station. The wonder of it, to anybody who bothered to give it a second glance, was that it hadn't been towed away long ago.

Inside, it was another matter. Hiiro's team had been using the van as a mobile base for several years now (those missing wheels were actually mounted inside the van's body, and could be dropped into place in a few seconds if they actually had to move), and the interior was fitted out as a highly-efficient command post.

It was mostly empty, of late. Hiiro himself had not stepped in for several days; he was spending most of his time on the recent Hoseki raid, and the questioning of witnesses. Aoiro was still working steadily on the Olympus operation, but it was clear that his heart was not in it; he arrived, put in his hours, and left again with hardly a word. Kuroi spent most of his time working with Kitada, putting him through endless training exercises and swearing to himself at how well the young Irregular was doing. And Mitsukai—

Mitsukai Senritsu was still there, day after day, sitting in the van at her electronics post. She was very busy indeed. There were technical journals to read, and records to browse, and Lieutenant Murasaki's team over in the Han Domain had asked her for help in a decryption problem, and there was the Hoseki data to help analyse, and…somehow, looking for a missing cat was no longer very high on her task-list. She occasionally glanced at the transcriptions of the bugs inside the building, but there was never anything interesting on them. The cameras watched over the Olympus building, faithfully recording everything; but most of the time, nobody checked the recordings.

It was a pity, really. For several minutes that morning, the cameras that monitored the main entrance to the gymnasium had clearly showed a small tabby cat with a circular mark on its forehead. The faces of the girls that the cat met and spoke to were quite recognisable. If Mitsukai had happened to glance up at the right moment, the mission would have been over.

She tapped a key on her console and started to read the next page.

**-**

* * *

**-**

Bendis was in heaven.

Somehow or other the conversation had worked its way around to how each of the girls had been discovered. Naturally Bendis, who had found three of them (one _more_ than Artemis, but of course she wasn't going to rub that in…much), was having a wonderful time.

Dhiti had told her story to start with, with suitable embellishments and unnecessary digressions (and with various sarcastic comments from Artemis). Miyo, rather more reluctantly, talked about her own discovery—and thoroughly delighted Bendis with the news of Artemis' mistake in restoring her memories.

Then it was Beth's turn. She did her best; but Bendis could not resist helping her out on a few of the details, and before long Beth simply gave up and let the cat handle it.

"—And the _same_ morning that he threw me out, I ran into Beth," she was saying now. Artemis put in something grouchy about how he didn't remember doing any throwing, but she ignored him. "I didn't realise which girl it was at first, but I soon managed to track her down." Well, with a little help from a certain obnoxious human, but like she was _really_ going to tell them that. "After that, it was just a matter of working out which Senshi she was."

"Yes, I'd been wondering about that, actually," said Artemis coolly. "How _did_ you manage that? Normally Senshi powers only manifest during a crisis. It's very difficult to pinpoint them otherwise; it took me years to learn it. So how did you work it out?"

Bendis hesitated, suspecting a trap, but couldn't resist. "Oh, that was easy," she bragged. "Like you said, it takes a crisis. So I just had to—"

"Wait a minute!" Beth burst out. "You mean _that's_ what you were doing?" Addressing the others, she said, "All that afternoon, I kept having these little…accidents. Things falling on me. Getting tripped up. You know. And _she_ was always there…"

Dhiti stared at her. She started to snicker. "You…you mean she was deliberately putting you in danger, to try and make your…your…" She would have said more that that, but she was laughing too hard.

"It worked, didn't it?" protested Bendis.

"You dropped a _piano_ on my head!" Beth complained.

At that point, Miyo lost it too.

"So let me get this straight," said Artemis, with ominous calm. "You kept on causing her bigger and bigger accidents, until finally her powers manifested?"

"Right," said Bendis, nodding in satisfaction. Some vestige of honesty made her add, "Oh, well, I suppose the last one really was an accident. I was…er, nearly hit by a truck, and she jumped out to save me. The truck almost hit her, instead. That was when the symbol appeared on her forehead."

Artemis sighed, shaking his head. "You little idiot. It doesn't matter how big an accident you make it. I thought I taught you better than that. An ordinary, mundane accident is not something that will bring out a Senshi's powers."

Bendis blinked at him. "Than what—"

He sighed again. "She didn't become Venus because she was in danger, you ass. She became Venus because _you_ were in danger."

Bendis stared. After a while, she said, "oh," in a very small voice.

"To defend, and to serve, Bendis," he told her. "Serving the Queen, the Princess, the Kingdom and all its people…and even fat-heads like you, because you have a part in this too, though goodness knows why. Whether it's by fighting against a youma attack, or an invasion from Nemesis—or just protecting some idiot who doesn't know better than to stand in front of an oncoming truck. That's what it's all about. Not silly little contests to see who can find the most Senshi!"

"I know, I know," she grumbled, subdued.

He batted her gently with one paw. "When you really _do_ know, you'll actually be ready to go out on your own," he said, not unkindly. "For now, though—"

"Go easy on her, Artemis," said an amused voice from behind them.

They all looked around quickly. There was a woman standing in the doorway: tall, slender, young-looking, with close-cropped hair of a pure, brilliant white. "I think she's got the idea," the newcomer finished.

_Oboy,_ Bendis thought. _She's doing it. She's actually going to do it._

Meeting Itsuko the night before had been rather a shock. Long before, when Artemis had told her about the backup contact point, he'd said that the human there could be trusted. But he'd never mentioned just who she was. Coming face-to-face with a two-thousand-year-old legend had been disconcerting, to say the least. Then they'd explained to her why Itsuko was keeping her identity hidden, and how bad it would be if anyone found out, and they'd sworn her to secrecy, and—

And now, it looked as though Itsuko had decided that enough was enough, after all.

The white-haired woman looked around the room slowly. The five girls were all staring up at her. Miyo looked surprised, but pleased. The others' expressions ranged from shocked…to outraged.

"So," Itsuko said. "This is the new crop of Senshi." She was smiling faintly.

That produced an even bigger reaction, as she'd probably intended. Beth looked appalled. Suzue actually gasped in dismay. Iku shrank back. But Dhiti—

What was wrong with her? She looked furious! Bendis found herself shrinking back involuntarily as the girl stood, fists clenched, her face dark with anger, and burst out, "_Hayashi_!"

Itsuko seemed to understand, though. She reached out and touched Dhiti lightly on the shoulder, and whispered, "Relax." Dhiti froze. "Miyo had nothing to do with this," Itsuko told her quietly. "She didn't know that I was…planning this. It's time, that's all."

Dhiti scowled again, refusing to look at her. Itsuko nodded slowly, then removed her hand and left Dhiti's side, moving around to stand at the head of the low table. Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps not; but as she stood there, her back to the window, her face was half in shadow, and when she spoke her voice seemed almost disembodied.

"My name is Pappadopoulos Itsuko," she said softly, "and I am the owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. I am Miyo's host, for the time being. I am also an old acquaintance of Artemis; I have worked with him in the past, and I know at least a little about all of you. I know who you are…and _what_ you are. But I know how to keep a secret, too, and I will not give any of you away."

She was silent for a moment. Then she said, "This is all true. But it is not the whole truth."

Her voice seemed to grow deeper as she spoke. "I was born in the days of the Silver Millennium. I died when it was destroyed, only to be reborn, two thousand, two hundred and twenty-two years ago. I grew up in the city of Tokyo—First Tokyo, you call it now. I survived the time of the Great Ice. I walked the streets of Crystal Tokyo. I was injured during the time of the Fall, but I survived that, too, and the dark years that followed. When they began to rebuild Tokyo again, I came back, and I have been here ever since. My true name—" She paused, and her eyes seemed to burn. "My true name is Hino Rei, and I was the Senshi of Mars in the court of Queen Serenity."

The room was completely silent as she finished speaking. Nobody spoke; nobody even dared breathe. Even the distant sound of traffic from outside seemed to have ceased. They could only stare up at her; she seemed to tower over them, silhouetted against the window, faintly haloed in light.

Then Miyo said, "Geez, Rei, you don't have to be so pretentious about it."

"Umm, I think Suzue-san has fainted," added Beth.

- - -

To Dhiti it came as a revelation. A whole collection of facts suddenly rearranged themselves in her mind. Artemis' hints that Itsuko knew all about them. The way Miyo suddenly moved into the Olympus building. Her reticence about the mysterious 'Itsuko.' And maybe even that time, a couple of weeks ago, when she had been so upset about something…

She stood quietly for a few minutes, putting the pieces together. _I'm going to have to apologise to Hayashi,_ she thought absently; but for now it was a distant concern. She barely even noticed the fuss as everyone else crowded around Suzue, helping her up and asking if she was all right.

A thousand random thoughts buzzed through her mind. _The real—the original Sailor Mars! And I just almost decked her. Oops. Hey, does that mean we're going to have two Marses now? Is there any such word as 'Marses'? I can't believe she's real. She doesn't look two thousand years old…_

But that, too, was distant and unimportant. Instead, what was foremost in her mind was: it was all right. Miyo had had a good reason to keep all this from her. They could still be friends. And it was truly amazing, how relieved she felt knowing that.

—She blinked. Somebody was waving a hand in front of her face. "Um, what?" she said.

"Earth to Dhiti-chan, Earth to Dhiti-chan. Are you receiving me, over?" said Miyo, smiling.

She breathed a silent sigh. Yes, it really _was_ all right. And that being the case…

The manic spark flared into life again. "Calling Earth, calling Earth," she said into an imaginary microphone, grinning wickedly. "Your signal is breaking up, say again. What was that about goats?"

"Are you all right? You were looking a little zoned-out there for a—" Miyo broke off. "Goats?" she said.

Dhiti winked. "Gotcha," she said. Then, in a whisper that only the two of them could hear, she added, "I need to talk to you, Hayashi."

Miyo nodded. "I know," she replied, equally softly. "Later." Then she grabbed Dhiti by the arm and pulled her over to where the others were standing. Everyone was talking at once, it seemed. Suzue was upright again, though her face was pale. It had been a bit of shock, Dhiti supposed. Coming face-to-face with a figure from the past…

At that moment she came literally face-to-face with a figure from the past. "Itsuko," said Miyo, "this is my best friend, Sharma Dhiti. She's Sailor Mercury."

Itsuko studied her for a moment. "Yes," she said to Dhiti slowly. "I've been hearing quite a lot about you, actually."

Dhiti's mind went blank. What should she say? What should she say? What could she say to a living legend? "What did you do to your hair?" she blurted out.

Itsuko stared at her. Then her lips twitched. "I see what you mean," she said to Miyo.

"Told you so," the latter answered smugly.

Shaking her head ruefully, Itsuko said to Dhiti, "Believe it or not, I can do _without_ everybody in the world knowing who I am. There are enough pictures of me around in the history books that a few minor changes seemed a good idea. If that's all right with you?" There was a dangerous glint in her eye that suggested that it had better be all right.

Dhiti cleared her throat hurriedly, before she said something that really _did_ get her in trouble. "Um…so what happens to Iku-chan now?" she asked. "If you take over as Sailor Mars, does she had to leave the team, or something?"

To her surprise, the question seemed to upset Itsuko. She and Miyo exchanged glances, and Dhiti could tell that whatever it was, it bothered Miyo too. More secrets? But then Itsuko said, "No. But I should explain that to everyone…"

She raised her voice a little. "Can I have your attention for a moment?" The room fell silent with remarkable speed, making Dhiti suspect that the others had been listening in.

"I should tell you this now, before we go any further," Itsuko told them all. "I am no longer Sailor Mars. I lost my ability to transform after the Fall, and have never regained it—" Her voice broke for a moment. The look on her face was…painful to see. She cleared her throat and went on after a moment. "Obviously I still don't age, and I do seem to be able to tell when the Mars Power is being used—that was how I guided Miyo to bring you all together last night. But apart from that…Iku-san is the only Sailor Mars now. I'm sorry if any of you were getting your hopes up."

There was silence for a few seconds. Dhiti tried to imagine what it would be like. She had only been Mercury for a little while, but the idea of having to give it up…She shuddered.

(And a memory stirred, a voice that she had heard in a dream. "If you take this chance, there's no way out. No turning back. You must follow the path all the way. Wherever it leads…")

She shook her head sharply, trying to shake off the thought. Itsuko was speaking again. "—Hope I may be able to help you in other ways," the woman was saying. "I do have a fair bit of experience, and I may be able to offer some advice in your training, or with any other problems you're having. Miyo and Artemis can do that too, of course; but I hope I can contribute something. If…if you'll have me?"

She really meant it, Dhiti realised, amazed. Itsuko genuinely wasn't sure that they'd accept her. She was…afraid?

And with that realisation, her awe for the woman suddenly vanished. Itsuko might be the legendary Senshi of Fire; she might be thousands of years old; she might have been Queen Serenity's closest friend, all those years ago—she might be all this and more; but over and above that, she was still a human being. As capable of doubt and uncertainty as anyone. Maybe, just maybe, somebody that Dhiti could get to like.

Someone who was still waiting for an answer. _Break the mood,_ Dhiti's instincts told her. _Quickly, before everyone else gets maudlin too._

She snickered. Everyone looked at her. "Like we're really going to say no to that," she said. "C'mon, this is a joke, right?"

And Miyo smiled, and McCrea grinned; Iku and Suzue both seemed to relax, and the look of relief on Itsuko's face was inexpressible.

"That being the case," Itsuko said, "perhaps we should discuss what's been happening lately—"

- - -

Beth was uncomfortably aware that she had not made the best of first impressions. They _would_ have to ask her to change to Venus! Everything had been going so well up until that point, too (though she wasn't quite sure why they had mistaken her for Iku).

She squirmed at the memory. Had she _really_ volunteered to juggle for the others? What had she been thinking? But of course she hadn't been thinking. Venus had been doing the thinking, and Venus would do just about anything if it seemed like a good idea…

(Venus got all the fun.)

She sighed and tried to concentrate on what Itsuko was saying. It was difficult to keep her attention focused, though. Some of the bruises she'd gotten the previous night were uncomfortable to sit on for long, and she had to keep shifting around, trying to find a more tolerable position; and that disturbed Bendis on her lap, and Bendis wasn't afraid to use her claws.

It was worth the discomfort, though, to be together with Bendis again. Strange, how quickly the cat had become part of her life. It had only been a month since they'd met; but it seemed like they'd been together forever. They were partners; and the idea of anyone breaking that partnership was unbearable.

She had never realised how strongly she'd come to feel, until someone tried to separate them. The previous evening, when Artemis had said he was taking Bendis with him, it had been as if he was threatening to cut off her arm. She'd overreacted (or rather, Venus had)—screaming at him for wanting to take her friend away, promising to do unmentionable things to him if he touched a hair on Bendis' head…it was kind of embarrassing to remember, now; but she was pretty sure she'd do the same again. And all of it over a single night apart. Bendis had been away from her for much longer than that when she was out looking for Suzue. But this time it was a forced separation, and that made all the difference.

If only she could work out just why Bendis was afraid of Artemis…

Bendis had agreed to go with him, though. She had seemed…defeated, somehow. It was almost as if she'd been expecting it; as if she were going to face some unpleasant fate that she'd been avoiding for a long time…

Could that be it?

Yet when Beth arrived at the Olympus this morning, and met Bendis at the main entrance, the cat had seemed relaxed, even cheerful. And when she went in to meet the others, Artemis had been perfectly friendly, and somehow her anger from the previous evening had faded, and all she could remember (all Venus could remember) was how much she'd been looking forward to meeting him. So what had happened?

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find another position that didn't hurt. As she did, her eye fell upon Iku, sitting next to Dhiti on the other side of the table.

There was another riddle. Back when she'd first met Iku, the girl had been almost normal. Oh, she'd been shy, quiet, she always kept to the background; but she would talk to people, at least. Then she began to change. She became uncomfortable when anybody paid attention to her. She seemed perpetually nervous, afraid of almost everyone except Nanako. It seemed to get worse and worse as time went by. By the time she and Beth met last night, when she became Sailor Mars, she was a virtual wreck. And today…well, Beth and the others had heard a little of what was said when Miyo answered the door.

Something changed, though, when Iku met Dhiti. She had actually smiled. And now, as she sat listening to Itsuko speaking, she seemed relaxed, almost peaceful—

_Whoops._ The thought of Itsuko brought Beth back to earth in a hurry. She had been speaking for some time and Beth hadn't heard a word of it. Flushing guiltily, Beth turned her attention back to what the woman was saying, and hoped that nobody had noticed.

"—suggest that the first thing you need to consider is what their primary objective is," the white-haired woman was saying. It was hard to believe that she was really the legendary Hino Rei. Beth wondered what Venus would say about the matter, and hastily suppressed the thought.

"That's easy enough to say," protested Dhiti. "But how are we supposed to tell? They appear, they cause trouble, and then we show up and blow them to pieces."

"That's all very well," said Itsuko patiently. "But I doubt that they're simply attacking at random. There may be some common element. What sort of 'trouble' do they cause?"

"The first one just attacked Venus," said Miyo thoughtfully. "It didn't seem to do anything else at all."

"There was that fire," Beth pointed out. "It might have started that."

"Yeah, but why burn down a department store?" asked Dhiti. "It doesn't make any sense. Look, _none_ of them make any sense! The second one was trashing a dressmaker's when I found it! It was even disguised as a dressmaker's dummy!"

"The third one attacked a theatre," Miyo said. "It managed to hurt quite a few people. That might be a common thread—if the first one set that fire, then maybe they're just trying to kill people—"

"Then how do you explain the dressmaker's?" demanded Dhiti. "And that woman who's controlling them? The way she acted at the theatre, she wasn't just out to kill people."

"Woman?" said Beth. "What woman?"

"You know," said Miyo. "The same one as last night. Blue clothes, jewel in her forehead, remember?"

"She was at the theatre?" said Beth, startled. She looked over at Bendis. "You didn't tell me anything about that."

"I didn't see her," protested Bendis. "Must have been after I left."

"Oh. She did seem surprised that I didn't recognise her—"

"I think she's the same one as at the dressmaker's," put in Dhiti. "You know, when she told the thingumajig to kill us."

Beth blinked. "That's right!" she said. "Last night, she looked normal to start with. Then she…changed." She shivered suddenly.

"We're getting off the point," said Miyo. "The one last night wasn't trying to kill lots of people, either. So much for my idea, I guess."

"It was trying to kill me," said Iku in a very small voice.

They were silent for a moment. Dhiti flashed Iku a quick grin, then frowned in thought. "The whole thing last night looks like a trap," she said slowly. "They were deliberately trying to kill you, Beth-chan. Came pretty close, too," she finished with a faint smirk.

Beth flushed red. "She's a lot faster than she looks," she muttered. "And a _lot_ stronger."

"This is all very well," said Itsuko, "but—"

"The only common point," said Suzue suddenly, "is us."

Miyo stared at her. "What?" she asked.

"They aren't attacking people or buildings or anything, at least not consistently. From what you've said, they seem to act differently every time. The only thing they always do is…attack us."

"That can't be right," objected Beth. "If we were…" She trailed off. "Maybe you're right," she admitted after a few seconds. "That first one actually acted like it was _looking_ for me." It was a queasy thought. "It started off looking human, and it didn't change until I said I was Sailor Venus."

"And then it kept on ignoring me, and only going after you," added Miyo. "Just like that second one kept on concentrating on you, Dhiti-chan…"

"The third one wasn't concentrating on anyone," pointed out Dhiti.

"No, but the one last night was focused on Iku-san," said Bendis unexpectedly. "Even when Beth was attacking that woman, it ignored her and kept after Iku-san."

"So…you're saying they're Senshi-killers? They just show up and make trouble until one of us comes along, and then they attack us?" Dhiti made a face. "So what does Lady Blue have against us?"

"'Lady Blue'?" said Artemis.

"You know. The one with the crystal. Hey, if she won't tell us her real name…" Dhiti shrugged.

"The third one," said Miyo grimly, "might have been hunting us as well. Your 'Lady Blue' had a Crystal Tokyo tracker. She could have used it to find us—locked onto our henshin wands, or something like that."

"But if they're hunting us," said Beth, "why are they doing it so badly?"

The others stared at her. "Badly?" said Bendis. "They almost _killed_ you last night, Beth!"

"But they didn't," Beth pointed out. "And they could have. Lady Blue could have done it, easily. It was like she was…playing with me. And that vitrimorph thing at the fire—it acted slow and clumsy at first, but it was moving much faster later."

"The one at the dressmaker's was the same," said Miyo thoughtfully.

"And the one at the theatre was actually _shooting_ at us," added Dhiti. "I wonder if the others could have done that, too?"

Bendis cleared her throat. "Last night, when Lady Blue ordered the vitrimorph to kill Iku-san, she said she needed an 'object lesson.' I never thought—but if she meant—"

"They're playing with us," said Beth in a low voice. "She wanted to make an example of Iku-chan so the rest of us would try harder."

"But _why_?" protested Bendis. "What's she doing this _for_?"

"Maybe they're hunting Sailor Moon, and they want us to find her," said Suzue.

A silence fell as everyone thought about that. Itsuko hitched herself forward, looking interested. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

Suzue looked embarrassed. "Well…they seem to be pushing us to do something," she said. "And that _is_ what we do, isn't it? Serve the—the Queen?"

"Well…I wouldn't put it quite like that—" said Miyo, a little uncomfortably.

"And if they're after the—Sailor Moon," Suzue went on, stumbling for a moment, "couldn't they be connected to the ones who destroyed her in the Fall? They were crystal warriors just like these ones."

"Not quite like these ones," said Dhiti, shooting a glance at Miyo and Artemis. "I already asked about that."

"But there could be a connection," admitted Artemis. "If this Lady Blue had a tracker—well, crystal technology doesn't work any more, everyone knows that. But the ones who destroyed Crystal Tokyo might be able to get one working—considering what they were able to do back then."

Dhiti sighed. "It would help," she said, looking pointedly at Miyo, "if we had a better idea of just what _did_ happen during the Fall."

Miyo looked pained. "You keep asking me that," she complained. "Look, it's a long, nasty story. You're the history buff; you probably know as much about it as I do anyway…"

Dhiti snorted. "Right."

"It might be worth going into," said Itsuko slowly. "I've had certain…presentiments…that the Enemy is still active."

Miyo glared at Artemis. "I know what you're going to say—" she began.

"You can tell it, Miyo," said Artemis cheerfully. "After all, your memories are so much fresher than Itsuko's and mine."

"We'll _all_ tell it," said Itsuko firmly. "I'm sure there are parts that you and I remember that Makoto never knew. Look, the way it started—"

Artemis cleared this throat. "If you're going to be that way—I think I was with Ami when it started, actually," he said. "She was—"

**-**

* * *

**CRYSTAL TOKYO  
THE REIGN OF QUEEN SERENITY II**

* * *

**-**

**22 October, 3477**

Ami listened to Artemis with half an ear as she worked. She was sitting in her workshop, a large room filled with bookshelves, equipment benches and computer terminals, going through a fairly dense scientific paper of some kind, and occasionally tapping in an annotation. Artemis was not offended; he knew that she was listening to him.

"—Just can't get her to commit herself to anything," he was saying. "Luna hasn't had any better luck. Maybe if you could speak to her?" He waited hopefully.

"If Luna can't persuade her, I doubt that I'd be able to do any better," Ami said calmly. "Endymion would have more chance."

"He won't touch it. He's already been through it himself. He just laughed when I tried to talk him into it."

"He would." Ami looked up for a moment and smiled. The Queen's Consort affected a dignified (and occasionally rather pompous) manner in public, but privately he had not changed much, and he had a fairly shrewd idea of when it was wisest to stay out of an argument.

"I really don't think you've got anything to worry about, though," she went on, looking back at her screen. "Serenity would never let everyone down by refusing to make an appearance. She's just dragging her feet a little. I can't say I blame her."

Artemis could sympathise with that, too. Some of the plans that were being proposed for the following year's celebrations of Serenity's 1500th birthday would have made anybody shudder. But still—

"Okay, the whole System is going nuts about this," he admitted. "But you know there has to be _some_ kind of ceremony, and I can't even get her to confirm where she'll be on the day! And some of the plans those people are talking about will take months of preparation."

"Give her time," Ami advised. "You know Serenity. She'll do it in the end. Anyway, surely she'll be here on the day?"

"She's been making hints about wanting to spend it in the old palace on the Moon."

Ami raised her eyebrows. "Now that _is_ an interesting idea. You're right, though; it'd take a lot of preparation."

"That's what I keep telling her."

"Anyway, you might try asking Rei about it. She's an old pro at getting Serenity to do things. Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"Rei said she didn't want to—what's wrong?"

"Nothing's _wrong_." Ami stared at her screen, looking irritated. "What on earth are they thinking of? This is nonsense!"

Artemis stepped closer to look at what she was reading. "What is it?"

"It's a new geological survey of Japan, mapping underground structures and deposits. The team that did it used a new resonance-echo technique that they hoped would give them much greater resolution and accuracy. I designed some monitoring systems for them, and I think they got Haruka in to trigger seismic echo-pulses."

"What, doing a 'world shaking' for real?" Artemis laughed. "Well, I guess it's a change for her. So what's the problem?"

"Oh—they got a signal back that their theory won't explain. It's a localised region that doesn't act quite the way they think it should. It's right at the limit of accuracy, so it's quite likely to be a simple error. But instead, they're calling it a mascon. Of all things!"

"Um…" Artemis cleared his throat. "Maybe you know what a mascon is, Ami, but…"

Ami sighed. "Never mind. It's not important. It's just lucky I noticed this before publication. Let me get this cleared up—"

She started to type rapidly, her eyes far away. When she was young Ami had wanted to be a simple doctor, but in the centuries since then, her talents had exploded in a hundred different directions. She was a natural polymath; her name was in the top rank of a dozen disciplines, and highly-rated in many more. Artemis no longer understood even half of what she did.

He watched her work for a minute or two longer, then gave up and left her to it. He decided to try asking Rei for help again.

- - -

As luck would have it, he found Rei in the royal quarters, talking to the Queen. There was no more official business scheduled that afternoon, and the two were cheerful and relaxed, chatting amiably. Serenity had doffed her more formal dress and was wearing a simple cream blouse and skirt; and Rei was actually out of her Senshi costume, which she tended to wear as a uniform, and dressed in a sloppy pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

"Hi, Artemis," said Rei as he came in. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," he answered. "Minako called in to say she's getting bored up on the L-307 habitat and she's coming home. Ami's getting all worked up about a geological survey. Diana says she wants to dye her fur blue, but Luna says she'll disown her if she does. You?"

Rei shrugged. "Pretty quiet."

"Blue?" said Serenity, interested. "Why blue?"

Artemis shook his head. "I've given up trying to understand fashion, even for humans. Fashion for cats is…" He shuddered. "I don't want to think about it."

"Hmm." To his alarm, he saw that the Queen was giving him a speculative look. "What do you think, Rei-chan? If he dyed his whiskers red…"

"What? No!"

But Rei had a devilish glint in her own eye. "That could work," she agreed, smirking visibly. "Or maybe—just the tip of his tail—"

"No, that would make him look like a fly whisk. Perhaps a ginger streak down his spine…?"

"I'll tell you what," said Artemis icily. "If you can persuade Endymion to go blond, I'll dye my whiskers."

They exchanged glances. "Hmm," they chorused.

Endymion chose that moment to walk in. He walked over to Serenity and bent to kiss her cheek, but stopped short as he saw the look that both women were giving him. "What?" he said nervously.

Serenity and Rei looked at each other again, and burst out laughing. "All right, Artemis," Serenity admitted. "You win. I can't imagine that at all."

"I can," said Rei. "I could get Ami-chan to do a simulation for you, so you can see what it'd be like." She started to snicker again.

"What are you talking about?" asked Endymion.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Artemis muttered.

"Now, now," Rei admonished. "Be nice, or I'll tell Minako about this."

He flinched. "Don't," he begged. "Please. She'd think it was a good idea. She'd…she'd do it to me in my sleep!"

"I think I really _don't_ want to know what this is about," Endymion said, grinning. "Not if it involves what you and Minako do in your sleep."

Artemis groaned. Not _that_ old rumour again. Hastily changing the subject, he said, "Look, Rei, I wanted to see you, but—" He glanced at the Queen. "It can wait. I'll catch you later—"

Serenity looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't about the ceremonies next year, is it?" she asked suspiciously. Endymion started to laugh.

"Well…yes," Artemis admitted.

"Oh, and you wanted me to do your dirty work for you and talk her into something?" demanded Rei, annoyed.

"Yes!—No! It's not like that!" he protested. "Look, a lot of the planning has to be done a long way ahead! Especially if you really want to have it on the moon. We're already pushing the deadline for some of the proposals—"

Rei gave Serenity a curious look. "The moon?" she asked. "What have you been telling him?"

Serenity looked innocent. "Just a thought," she said.

Endymion sat down next to her. "Artemis does have a point, you know, love," he told her. "You're being a bit unfair, putting things off like this."

"But—" She sighed. "I just want it to be a private day," she said. "Just you, me, Usagi, and the Senshi."

"I know," he said comfortingly. "But something like this is just too big to keep private. 'Noblesse oblige,' remember. Your people want to show that they love you."

She looked away, sighing again. At last, resigned, she said, "All right. Let me see the plans tomorrow, Artemis. I'll go through them with Luna, and we'll decide what we'll do."

"Er—what about the moon idea?" Artemis pressed.

She shook her head, smiling sadly. "No. The old palace there has been undisturbed this long…let it keep its dead."

"All right." Privately, Artemis was relieved. He hadn't liked the moon idea much; the thought of returning there stirred old, old memories that he would just as rather let lie, forgotten.

"Just keep the ceremonies down to a reasonable length," Serenity ordered. "Six hours total, maximum. I want _some_ time for family and friends—"

"You think we'd miss it?" said Rei, smiling. "You gave us all the year off, remember. Half of us are here already. Mina-chan's on her way. The others will be back in a couple of months. It's going to be our year too, after all."

"How could I forget?" But Serenity still looked melancholy. "I just wish Hotaru could be—"

"It was her decision, dear," Endymion told her, squeezing her shoulders. "She chose not to live forever." His eyes grew distant as he remembered. "I don't think she ever regretted it."

"Usagi still misses her. So do I."

"I know, love," he said, drawing her gently to her feet. "I know." His arm about her, he escorted her slowly out.

Rei and Artemis watched them go silently. In each of their minds was an image of a delicate, black-haired woman: the lost member of their company, the first to pass on, never replaced. Hotaru, the firefly, who chose to live a normal life-span, to grow old and die with her husband. The gentle Senshi of life and death, who had loved the former, yet had not feared to embrace the latter…

Every year on her birthday, all the Senshi who were able to gathered together in remembrance of her. It was a morbid custom, perhaps; but there was an unspoken agreement among them that to let the day pass unmarked would have been worse.

At last, in a deliberate attempt to break the silence, Artemis said, "Do you think Setsuna will come to the celebrations?"

Rei shrugged, apparently glad of the distraction. "Who knows? Serenity says she still pops in from time to time, but I haven't seen her in decades." She shook her head, and added, "What was that you were saying about Ami, before? What's got her worked up?"

"Hmm?" Artemis tried to remember what he'd said. "Oh. Some glitch in a geological survey. Nothing important."

"Nothing important," Rei echoed.

- - -

**14 November, 3477**

Makoto reached Crystal Tokyo late at night. It had been a long trip—the Pacific Shuttle was a two-hour flight—and she was tired. She'd spent the last two years in Toronto, acting as Serenity's diplomatic envoy and keeping a quiet eye on the bickering and political manoeuvring that had been going on with the Lakes Republic since the last election. It had been very boring, for the most part, and she was glad to be home.

She took a flyer from the shuttle pad to the Palace. There was a full moon that night, and the sky was clear; the city below her was an eerie sight, pale silhouettes of buildings divided by rivulets of light. Here and there brilliant sparks, flyers like her own, drifted through the air. Ahead, the spires of the Palace glittered in the moonlight, clean and elegant. She owned a house out in the suburbs, but she had not lived there regularly for decades. The Palace was home.

While she was still some distance away, her attention was caught by something new: a tall, spindly structure, hardly more than a framework, looking like an uneven series of slender towers. She was past it before she could make out more, but if it was a new building going up, it was a very strange-looking one.

Her flyer landed before she had much time to wonder about it. A group of Serenity's household guard came out to meet her, saluting as she climbed out of the flyer. She nodded wearily to them and went on inside. She had signalled ahead from the shuttle pad, and the service units had prepared her quarters and turned on the lights and the heat. The door unsealed at her touch, and she fell into bed thankfully.

The next morning was grey and dreary. She woke early, her body-clock still on Canadian time, but long experience told her that trying to sleep longer would be useless. She crawled out of bed, still groggy. A long, hot shower helped. Food would be even better. Her rooms had excellent kitchen facilities, of course, but she wanted company. She went out looking for breakfast.

To her delight, she found Minako in the common dining room a few floors below. The blonde Senshi jumped up as she came in, beaming a welcome.

"Mako-chan! When did you get back?"

"Last night. Hi, Mina-chan. How're things?"

Minako grinned. "Great! It's nice to finally have some time off…get a few things sorted out, catch up on the soaps…raid Rei's manga collection…"

Makoto laughed. "Bored?"

"You betcha." Minako laughed too, then gave a shrug. "What can you do? It's been so long since I had a real holiday, I don't know what to do with it. And with a whole _year_ off…"

"Yeah." Makoto filled a plate, and sat down next to Minako. "I kind of wish they weren't making such a big fuss about the anniversary. Okay, it's nice to be all getting back together again, but still, I wish Serenity wasn't doing it…"

"You think she had a choice?" Haruka came in, yawning. She sat down across the table from the other two, and said, "Hi, Makoto. How was Canada?"

Makoto waved a hand noncommittally. "Politics. Dull." Then she brightened. "I did meet this one guy, a couple of months ago, when—"

"Spare me." Haruka grinned to take the sting from her words. "I think I know this story."

"Well, yeah." Makoto sighed, and shrugged. "How's Michiru?"

Haruka raised her eyebrows. "Well enough," she said. "She's been held up for a while at the Miranda Institute. She's due back in a couple of weeks."

Makoto nodded. It was rather rare to find the two apart; after Serenity and Endymion, they were the system's stablest couple. Haruka hid it well, but Makoto could see that she wasn't happy at the separation.

"What was that you were saying about not having a choice?" she asked.

"Talk to Artemis about it sometime," Haruka suggested. "He's acting as coordinator. It wasn't a matter of deciding to make a big thing of it; it's more a case of, it's going to be a big thing whether we like it or not, so we might as well take it gracefully."

"Personally, I could do without the reminder," Minako grouched. "'Her majesty's sesquimillennial celebration…' Is that even a word? It's on all the vid reports."

"Ask Ami."

"Ha! You'd be lucky to get two words out of Ami at the moment. She's up to her eyeballs in this survey project of hers."

"Survey?" Makoto raised her eyebrows. "What's she up to now?"

Haruka laughed softly. "Someone found a geological fault, a couple of kilometres down, that doesn't act the way Ami thinks it should. She's spent the last three weeks trying to work out what it is."

"She's set up these towers down in the city, and she's drilling down and setting off bombs to try and figure it out," added Minako.

Makoto looked at her, shaking her head fondly. "Translation, please?" she requested. A certain amount of Minako's ditzy act was just that: an act. But you could never be sure which part.

"Actually, that's about right," said Haruka. "She's been sending down test bores, and setting off micro-charges to trace the seismic whatchamacallits. Some of the people down in the city were getting quite worried about it, and Serenity had to meet them and tell them it was all right." She grinned. "I'm not sure that Serenity really understood what she was talking about—but then, I'm not sure that _I_ understand what Ami's doing, either."

Makoto groaned. "That sounds like Ami." She cocked her head and added, "Maybe that's what I saw last night, as I was flying in—a group of towers, like scaffolding frameworks…"

"That's the one," Haruka confirmed. "We could go down and take a look later, if you're that interested."

Makoto shrugged. "Not really. What's interesting about a hole in the ground?"

- - -

**22 November, 3477**

Rei got up, sighing. She had been meditating before the sacred fire for more than an hour. Her head swam for a moment as she rose.

She stood there for a little, staring into the flames. The air was thick with the scent of incense and wood-smoke, and a faint, tantalising hint of vanilla. The only light in the room came from the fire. The heat on her face was fierce, but after so many years of doing this she barely noticed it any more. She of all people was accustomed to flame.

Sometimes, standing here like this, she felt the weight of all the years that filled this room. The decades and the centuries hung about her. The few simple furnishings were antiques, many of them hundreds of years old; but the fire itself was the oldest thing here. This fire was the same one that had burned in the Hikawa shrine in her youth. In all the years since, it had never gone out.

Oh, it had been quenched for a time during the Great Ice; but afterward, as the world began to rebuild, she had worked up her nerve and asked Setsuna to help her preserve it. For a wonder, the Senshi of Time had agreed. The two of them picked a moment when they would not be disturbed, stepped into the past, brought back a fire-pot—and the sacred fire burned anew.

She smiled at the memory. She had been surprised when Setsuna agreed to help; but the risk was minimal, and perhaps Crystal Tokyo had mellowed even Sailor Pluto. And when they had gone back, when she had stood again in the Hikawa Shrine as it had been before the Ice…that was a moment she would treasure forever.

It had been like going home, one last time. A return, for one brief moment, to a time that was lost; to a life that had been simpler, and in many ways more satisfying. A final glimpse of the life she might have led, the priestess she might have been.

Outside this room was a different world, a newer world. Out there she was Hino Rei: warrior, Senshi, companion of the Queen. A public figure, always busy, always in demand. It was strange, that this new world could make her feel so old.

But in here—here with the darkness and the flame and the stillness and the endless peaceful years—here, for a time, she could be a simple priestess again. And she felt young.

The fire cracked, and she started. Guiltily, she realised that she had been standing, lost in thought, for more than twenty minutes. She was expected back at the Palace. There were a million things to do…

With a quiet sigh, she turned and left the room. _Back to the real world,_ she thought sarcastically; though sometimes she was not sure which of her two worlds was the more real to her.

All the same, she felt refreshed, more at peace that she had when she had gone in. The weight was gone from her shoulders; she was smiling as she stepped outside. So perhaps, in the end, the two were not irreconcilable after all.

A thought occurred to her, and she chuckled out loud. When she left the Palace, when she went to the fire to pray and meditate, it was because she was searching for peace, tranquillity…serenity. Yet those were exactly the qualities that she was leaving behind, in the heart of the one who was the centre of the Palace. How ironic, that the rabbit should turn out to be so much better at it than the priestess…

How her grandfather would have laughed.

Shaking her head, still smiling, she went on. The Palace was only a few minutes' walk away. On her way, she reviewed her day's schedule. Meetings, discussions, planning committees, ceremonies…all the thousand thousand details that kept the world running. It was not as bad as it might have been—she, Artemis and Luna, as the ones who got stuck with it the most, fought a never-ending battle to keep the bureaucracy to a minimum—but there was still a lot to get through.

(Chief of Staff and head of the Civil Service was not quite how she'd seen her future when she was young. But it was a necessary job, not actually that far removed from her childhood vocation as priestess, and it kept her in Crystal Tokyo—and how could she ever leave Serenity? Oh, she'd been sent on other jobs, even been off Earth a few times, when she was needed, but that was increasingly rare. She was more valuable where she was, serving and guarding the Queen…and if there were more personal reasons why she could not bear to leave, well, they were nobody's business but hers.)

At least the load was a little lighter at the moment. There was more to do than ever, preparing for the celebrations coming up in June; but with all the other Senshi on Earth, she could spread some of the work around. It was technically a violation of their holidays, but it was in a good cause.

And how they complained about it! Her smile widened into a grin. A couple of days ago, Minako had even suggested that they make another search for the Younger Senshi—the new generation of Senshi that everybody knew would eventually arrive to replace them, as the endless cycle turned. Minako had said that she wouldn't mind being replaced if she could get a bit of peace and quiet in return…

Rei's grin faded. Everybody had laughed, then, but there had been a faint hint of unease behind the laughter. They had searched before, several times, but always in vain. In all the years since the founding of Crystal Tokyo, only one Younger Senshi had ever been found—and that was Princess Usagi, the new Sailor Moon. The present generation of Senshi had been active for more than a thousand years, and in the history of the Silver Millennium that was unprecedented.

Where were the Younger Senshi? Why had they never appeared?

Rei thought—feared—she knew.

She kept her suspicions to herself. What was the point of upsetting the others? But she was sure of her answer. There were no Younger Senshi because there was no longer any need for them. Because the Queen had made all the current Senshi immortal.

The function of the Younger Senshi was to maintain the cycle; as one generation grew older and their powers began to fade, a new generation was always born. But now, all the Senshi (except for poor Hotaru) were ageless, and the cycle was in suspension. Saturn would not be reborn unless there was a need for her. Princess Usagi had become Sailor Moon—but only after her mother had left the position behind and become Queen. There were no new Senshi, and unless the situation changed there would be none. Rei could not decide if that was good or bad; but in some way it disturbed her.

_Unless the situation changed._ But how likely was that? The human race—the whole solar system—was at peace. There had been no new crises since the Black Moon invasion. They had achieved a world that was little short of perfect, and nothing seemed to threaten it at all.

Certainly, there was nothing ominous in the offing at the moment. As always, Rei had checked in the sacred fire. And she could see nothing bad ahead of them at all.

- - -

**11 December, 3477**

"There _is_ something down there," Ami said firmly. "I'm certain of it."

She was sitting in Serenity's private office: a spacious, comfortable room, informally furnished, that the Queen used when she wanted to get any real work done. Rei and the cats, and their staff, could insulate Serenity from a lot of the bureaucratic trivia of rulership; but even so there were some things that had to be seen to by the Queen personally. That being the case, Serenity preferred to be as comfortable as possible while she did it. (Ami had a vivid memory of coming into the office, a few years back, to see her lying on her stomach on a bean bag, surrounded by piles of documents, singing along with the stereo system at the top of her voice as she scribbled notes on an agricultural subsidies proposal.) There was another, public office, much more formal than this one, where the Queen received guests, but she used it as little as possible.

"A few weeks ago, you were saying it was just an unusual rock formation," pointed out Artemis. "Suddenly you've changed your mind?"

"That was what I thought at first," Ami admitted. "But all my tests have shown that it's more than that. There's something down there, two kilometres underground, that is opaque to everything I can think of. It acts as a near-perfect reflector to seismic waves, but it seems to absorb most other forms of energy. That makes it very difficult to investigate, especially when it's so far down, and there's very little I can tell about it directly; everything has to be inferred. But it's quite small—no more than ten metres in diameter. And it seems to be spherical."

"All right," Serenity said agreeably. She had been lying with her head on Endymion's lap, but now she sat up, looking over at Ami expectantly. "What is it, then?"

"I don't know."

There was a slight pause. Then Endymion said, "So why have you come here today? Just to give us a progress report?"

"No." Ami looked oddly nervous. "I came because…there's only one way left that I can think of to investigate it."

Serenity looked shocked. "You want to teleport down there? You can't! It's too dangerous!"

"I know that," said Ami patiently. "I could hardly teleport into solid rock anyway."

"Oh, mother." Princess Usagi stood up and came forward to join the others. "She wants to tunnel down, obviously." She had been listening to the discussion, but until now she had remained silent, sitting inconspicuously a little behind her parents. The princess was not shy about speaking her mind, but when her parents were acting in an official capacity she usually preferred to remain in the background.

"Yes," Ami agreed, grateful for the interruption.

"You want to drill down two kilometres?" Endymion raised his eyebrows. "That's quite an undertaking."

"Not as much as you might think," Ami replied. "Bores have gone much deeper than that before, even back in the twentieth century. But still, it would be a fairly major project, yes. And the location would be a problem."

"Oh?" said Luna, glancing up sharply. "Where is this mystery of yours?"

Ami sighed. "It's right below the city. As a matter of fact, it's directly under where the Tokyo Tower used to be."

"Umm." The Queen looked wistful. "Do you remember, Endy-chan, when we went there on our sixth anniversary—"

Endymion coughed. "Is that just a coincidence, do you think?" he asked Ami. "Or could it be…" He trailed off.

"I have no way of telling," said Ami. "But it's…odd."

"This whole thing is odd," said Artemis thoughtfully.

"I wonder how long it's been there?" mused Usagi. "When was the Tokyo Tower built?"

"Nineteen fifty-eight," Ami answered promptly. "But what data I've been able to gather suggests that the object was down there long before that. Probably tens of thousand of years, at least."

"You say 'object,'" Luna noted. "Do you think it's artificial, or could it be natural?"

"It's impossible to say for sure. It could be a lump of highly- compressed stellar material, perhaps one that crashed here as a meteor long ago. It could be a deposit of rare earths, in a rather remarkable formation. Or…" Ami shrugged. "It could be some kind of alien artefact. Or any number of other things. I'm afraid I've run out of ways to investigate, from up here."

"In any case," put in Endymion, "what is it exactly that you want to do, Ami? You don't want to set up a drilling rig in the middle of the city, I hope. Those towers you've already got are bad enough."

Ami flushed. "Well, that was one possibility," she confessed. "But I was thinking about adapting a subway bore. Not one of the main drilling machines, but there are smaller ones that cut auxiliary tunnels big enough to walk in. It would take some time to do the modifications, but still, in a few months we should be able to—"

"But Ami-obachan," said Usagi mischievously, "you can't start a project that's going to take several months. You're supposed to be taking next year off, remember?"

Ami stared at her. Her mouth opened and closed several times, soundlessly.

Endymion laughed. "Don't be cruel, Small Lady. This is the sort of thing Ami does _in_ her time off." Usagi threw him a dirty look at the name—when she'd turned thirty she'd announced that the next person to call her 'Small Lady' or 'Chibi-Usa' would get a kick in the teeth—and he laughed again.

"Umm—" began Ami.

"All the same," Endymion went on, "you're talking about quite a major project. Those subway bores cost hundreds of millions—and you're talking about melting out a hole two _kilometres_ deep…" He looked over at Serenity; but there was a twinkle in his eye. "What do you think, dear?" he asked innocently.

"Don't be silly, Endy-chan," the Queen replied. "If Ami wants to do it, of course she can. After all, what harm can it do?"

- - -

**6 January, 3478**

It was a cold, grey, rainy day. They gathered in silence in a small hall at the rear of the Palace. Everybody came—even Setsuna, who slipped in at the last minute and sat at the back, her face rigidly expressionless.

There was no formality or set order to the service. It did not last long. One by one, they got up and spoke a few words: recounting an incident, or sharing a private memory. One by one, each of them walked up to the table at the head of the room, and placed a lily on the simple white cloth, before the photograph that stood there.

The Queen wore black; her face ran with tears. Princess Usagi wept openly. Haruka and Michiru held each other tightly. The others, their faces grave and unhappy, stepped forward in their turn.

A stranger came last. Higoshi Hato had been invited by Michiru; she was one of Hotaru's few surviving descendants. She stood at the table for a little, staring down at the picture of a woman who had died before she was born. At last she touched her fingertips to her lips, and then pressed them for a moment to the picture. Softly she said, "Sleep well, obaasan." Then she turned and walked quickly out of the hall, almost running.

The Senshi filed out after her, as silently as they had entered. Only Setsuna hung back for a moment, staring at the picture of one she had loved like a daughter. Her lips moved almost soundlessly.

"Happy birthday, firefly," she whispered.

- - -

**22 February, 3478**

Luna crouched down, watching the tangled patterns of force intently as they pulsed and flickered. "No," she said sharply. "Tighten the weave there. Yes, there—on the fourth vertex. A little more—good."

Diana relaxed with a sigh, stepping back from the energy-construct she had been building under her mother's supervision, and looking at it with some distaste. The three cats were gathered in a sheltered courtyard at the rear of the Palace. At this time of day the courtyard was in shadow, making it easier to see the force lines, and Luna was determined that they should make the most of it.

"It would have worked as it was," Diana protested.

"There's no need to get sloppy," Luna told her reprovingly. "You run the risk of having it all unravel on you if you're not careful, and that's…not a prospect to take lightly."

"She speaks from experience," said Artemis, half-jestingly.

Luna gave him an irritated glare, then looked back to Diana. "Yes, I do," she admitted. "That was—oh, about thirty years before the Silver Millennium fell. I was careless, and a weave I was working unravelled in mid-transition. The retrieval was disrupted, I almost got my brains fried, and it took most of our people on the Moon, working together, six months to clean up the local force lines properly. The Queen was _quite_ upset with me."

"Yes, but—" began Diana.

"No 'buts'," Luna insisted. "Now, dismantle that lattice and try it again. If you're getting _this_ sloppy, you obviously need a lot more practise."

Diana sighed and obeyed. As she frowned in concentration, an intricate web of force patterns took shape in mid-air in front of her. Slowly it expanded, shifting and turning as it grew more complex, forming knots and junctions at the required points to create intangible energy pathways, and spinning off linkages into the ghost dimensions to keep the construct anchored in space-time.

A passing human being would have seen three cats, staring intently at nothing at all. He or she might even have walked straight through the weave that Diana was building, without disturbing it in the slightest.

"How's that?" inquired Diana at length.

Luna nodded slowly. "It looks all right," she said. "Finish the exercise, though. Trigger it."

Diana hesitated, obviously remembering Luna's story of what might happen if she'd got it wrong. Then, taking a deep breath, she leaped toward the weave. At the apex of her jump, she turned a perfect somersault and touched the trigger-point. The weave collapsed, twisting space as it did so into a precise configuration—and the subspace interstices opened, and something dropped out.

"Younger Pluto's henshin wand," said Artemis. "Interesting choice."

"I just wanted to see if there actually was one," Diana admitted. "I mean, I've never actually heard of there _being_ a Younger Pluto…"

"Who has?" inquired Luna rhetorically. "All right, you've demonstrated that you can open a pocket if you need to—though it took you three times longer than it should. You really do need to practise this. In an emergency, you might need to do it in a few seconds."

Diana winced. "A few seconds?" she protested.

Snorting, Luna said, "Watch." She sat back on her haunches, staring at nothing—and a new lattice took form before her, flickering and twisting and knotting with blinding speed, growing to a bewildering complexity almost faster than the eye could follow—and Luna leaped, and another henshin wand dropped to the floor beside the first.

Diana stared at it, trying not to show how impressed she was. "Younger Mercury," she breathed. Then: "How did you _do_ that?"

"Practice," said Luna.

"Lots and lots of practice," Artemis added wryly. "You always did have much better control than me."

"Thank you," replied Luna primly.

"But—" Diana trailed off. "I think I still prefer Father's way," she grumbled at last.

"You would," muttered Luna. "For heaven's sake—"

"No, let me," interrupted Artemis. "Diana, your mother's right. Her way of opening the pockets is better. I'd do it that way myself if I—" He cleared his throat. "If I could. Here, look at this…"

He padded over to the henshin wands, touched them gently with one paw, and closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he began to spin in place. A passing human would have seen nothing but a cat chasing its tail. But as Artemis whirled, a spindle of force-lines wove itself in the centre of his pattern, overlapping, merging, and condensing down to a tiny glowing core—

There was a _wink_ of something that was not light, but which made all three cats blink anyway, and the two henshin wands were gone.

Artemis came to a halt, breathing heavily. "You see?" he said after a few seconds. "It works, but it's all brute strength, not…not finesse. It's tearing the interstices open, rather than triggering them properly. The continuum seals itself shut again, true, but still it's not a good method to use regularly. Why do you think I usually let your mother handle this stuff? My way may be easier, but it's certainly not better."

"All right, all right," Diana mumbled. Then, trying to make a joke of it, she added, "Too bad I can't just do it the way the Senshi do, then."

Luna winced. "That's even _more_ limited," she said. "They can't see the weaves any more than a normal human can. Each of them is attuned to a single subspace pocket; they can use it, but that's all. They can't _control_ it like we can."

"Yes, but—" Diana began. Then she stopped, shaking her head. "All right. I'll practise more. Okay?"

"Don't use the Senshi's pockets," suggested Artemis. "Some of them are sensitive enough to feel the triggering, and there's no need to bother them. I'm not sure about Ami, but Setsuna probably noticed what you did just now."

"Oops," Diana said guiltily. "Wait a minute, does that mean I have to use—?" She winced. "Not the training matrix again."

"I'm afraid so," said Luna, mock-sympathetically.

"I'd like to get my hands on whoever thought it was funny to put a ball of wool in there," Diana muttered.

"Yes, I'm sure," Luna agreed. There was a twinkle in her eye. "In the meantime, though, you should go through the exercise two or three times a day for the next few months, and then we'll—"

"Exercise!" Diana suddenly sat bolt-upright. "I forgot! What time is it? Oh, no, I'm going to be late…"

"What's wrong?" asked Artemis.

"Princess Usagi's been taking physical training with some of the Palace Guard, down in the old arena…I was supposed to meet her there. I have to go, I'll see you later…" Diana ran off hurriedly.

Artemis shook his head humorously, watching her go. "I wouldn't have thought it was _that_ urgent. Maybe she's keen on avoiding more lessons?" Luna did not answer, and he started to ask her what was wrong; but something suddenly struck him. "Hold on. Today's Friday. Aren't those lessons only on Mondays and Thursdays?"

Luna still did not reply. "What is it?" he prompted her.

"Usagi stopped those lessons two months ago," Luna said quietly. "Diana ought to know that."

The two cats exchanged glances.

- - -

**1 March, 3478**

Rei stopped dead when she saw the expression on Serenity's face. She was just coming in to deliver a bundle of reports—and maybe share a cup of tea—but from the contorted look on the Queen's face something was dreadfully wrong.

"What—" she began.

"Shh!" Serenity hissed, holding a finger to her lips. "Quick, come through here!"

Rei followed her, now seriously worried. They walked silently through into the Queen's private quarters. There was an odd noise coming from somewhere.

"What is it—?" she tried again.

"Quiet!" Serenity whispered. She pressed her ear against a closed door, and motioned Rei to do the same. "Listen!" she ordered. "You've _got_ to hear this!"

Rei listened. Her eyes opened wide.

The sound was that of falling water. Endymion was taking a shower. And he was singing: a song from an old, old movie that Rei remembered well. In spite of herself, she began to giggle.

_"Be a man!  
You must be swift as the coursing river!  
Be a man!  
With all the force of a great typhoon!  
Be a man!  
With all the strength of a raging fire,  
Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!"_

When Endymion emerged, several minutes later, he was quite at a loss to explain the two women rolling on the floor of the lounge, hysterical with laughter.

- - -

**13 March, 3478**

"I have to admit, Ami," Makoto commented, "this is the ugliest thing you ever built."

"It's not supposed to look pretty," Ami said defensively. She looked up at the modified subway bore, and quite unconsciously patted it on its side.

It was an imposing sight, certainly, standing in the underground construction bay, starkly lit by brilliant white working lights. A long, tubular device, just short of two metres high, with a blunt, faintly rounded nose that was pitted with hundreds of tiny nozzles in an arcing, spiral pattern. The nose was slowly turning, and Makoto half-thought that she could see a faint, bluish haze rising from it.

Set far back from the nose, giving the whole machine a curiously unbalanced look, were six sets of caterpillar tracks. They were spaced evenly around the body, so that at present, four of them stuck out into the air. They reinforced the bore's lopsided appearance, making it look rather like a demented millipede with its legs in the air.

Most of the bore's body appeared to be made out of some kind of ceramic, creamy white in colour. Between the nose and the caterpillar tracks, though, was a massive sleeve of some darker material, that looked as if, like the nose, it could rotate. A cooling jacket, Ami had said, but Makoto had not really followed the explanation.

At the rear, the bore had a massive open exhaust port, and a pair of sealed valves that were apparently intended for refuelling the machine. At the top of the rear panel, she was amused to see, was a small plate marked with the royal crest.

The bore stood with its nose aimed down a dark hole that had been cut in one wall of the construction bay, the same diameter as the bore itself. The hole, only a few metres deep, sloped sharply downward. In less than an hour, the bore's nose would be aligned with that hole as a guide, and it would begin its long journey through the earth.

"So where's the hatch?" Makoto asked. "Where do you climb in?"

Ami sighed. "There isn't one," she said. "It's all fully automatic. You wouldn't _want_ to ride inside this. It moves very slowly; it's going to take a week to get down where we want it."

Makoto raised her eyebrows. "Why so long?" she asked. "Don't the regular subway bores go much faster than that?"

"Yes. But the tunnels they make are more or less level. This one has to go downward, and at a fairly steep angle. Those nozzles in the nose produce a very hot hydrogen flame. The bore doesn't cut a tunnel; it _melts_ one. And if it heads down too fast, it'll be moving through a pool of its own lava."

Makoto nodded slowly. That explained why the caterpillar tracks were so far back from the nose, she supposed. "So what happens to all the lava?" she asked. "Does it get shot out this hole at the back?"

"Only a little of it. Most of it is cooled as the bore passes through it, forming a layer of very dense, very hard rock around the tunnel. That makes the tunnel a lot more durable, naturally. The port is for passing out exhaust gases—superheated steam, vaporised rock, and so forth. It's also a valuable way of dumping heat, of course."

"Of course," echoed Makoto.

"You wouldn't want to be standing behind this when it's running. The exhaust temperature is thousands of degrees."

That, at least, Makoto understood. "So is it ready to go?" she asked. "All tested and everything?"

"Yes," said Ami patiently. "A few of the others said they wanted to see it in action, but as soon as they arrive I'll start it up." She smiled suddenly. "Or you could press the button, if you like."

"Me?" Makoto was taken aback. "No, I wouldn't want to spoil your—"

"Who's pressing whose buttons?" came a voice, unmistakably Minako, from behind them. They turned to greet her, and Makoto had to hide a smile. Minako was wearing a pair of battered overalls, and a bright yellow hard hat. As she came into the construction bay, she looked around with a faintly disappointed expression. "Oh…I thought it'd be, you know, all grease and oil and stuff in here," she said.

"I'm sure Ami could arrange something," said Makoto, grinning, before Ami could reply.

"Nah, that's okay. So, this is the tunnel?" Minako peered down the guide hole. "Where're all the stalactites? Just kidding," she added as Ami opened her mouth again.

Ami took a deep breath, appeared to count to ten, and said, "Good morning, Minako-chan. How are you today?"

"Pretty good," Minako answered cheerfully. "So, when are you starting this thing up? Should be quite a sight."

"When the others—" Ami stopped, looking at something behind her. "Oh. Pretty soon now, I think."

Makoto looked around. Rei and Serenity were just coming through the door, followed by Haruka and Michiru, and then Usagi and Diana. The Queen was laughing at something Haruka had just said.

"Wow, is everyone coming?" Minako said, surprised.

"It's that, or sit around trying to work out what to get Rei for her birthday," said Michiru dryly.

Haruka laughed. "Who'd have thought a year off would get boring so fast?"

"Well, it's better than dragging everyone back to Earth for each birthday," said Rei. She and Makoto exchanged glances. Then they carefully ignored each other.

"I suppose," grumbled Haruka.

Michiru dug her in the ribs. "You didn't think it was so boring a week ago," she teased. Haruka scowled, and she laughed. Michiru's fifteen hundredth birthday party had been quite a splash—a society event, as all their birthdays were this year (though Serenity's, in three and a half months, would be an altogether different scale)—and Haruka had enjoyed it immensely, whatever she was pretending now. Michiru had even allowed herself to be persuaded to play the violin in public, something that she did increasingly rarely.

They continued to tease each other, and Rei joined in, taking both sides at once; but Makoto stopped paying attention. Minako was talking to Ami, asking a series of pointless questions about the bore. Usagi was still arguing with Diana, which was a little odd. Makoto started toward them, curious, but stopped as someone else came in. She blinked in surprise. Setsuna?

She stepped over to meet her and said, "I wasn't expecting you to come." That was no more than the truth. Even today, when all the other Senshi were public figures, Setsuna was a virtual recluse, shunning all publicity. A lot of people believed that she didn't actually exist at all, and all indications were that she preferred it that way.

Setsuna simply shrugged. "I was curious," she admitted.

Makoto blinked. "Don't you know what Ami's going to find, then?"

"Contrary to what you may think," Setsuna said patiently, "I am not intimately aware of every tiny thing that's ever happened or is going to happen. What would be the point?" She shook her head. "I have a rough idea of what's ahead, but I only look at details when there's a good reason to. Knowing too much about where you're going…spoils the journey."

Makoto nodded slowly. "So, I guess this thing of Ami's is nothing earth-shattering, then."

Setsuna laughed. "The next few years are pretty quiet."

"Oh?" Makoto narrowed her eyes. Setsuna was being remarkably open. "How many years?" she asked slyly.

"Don't push your luck."

Makoto chuckled. "Worth a try." She wandered over to chat with Serenity and Usagi, who were admiring the bore. (Serenity laughed when she saw the royal crest on the rear plate.) They spoke for a few minutes, until Ami held up for attention.

"If nobody else is coming, we may as well get started," she announced quietly. She led them through into the control room, carefully closing a heavy, insulated door behind them and checking that it was sealed.

Several of Ami's assistants were already at work in the control room. They glanced up as the Senshi entered; a few of them looked startled, seeing Serenity come in, but they hid it well. One of them quietly showed the Senshi where to stand, then returned to his own work.

The control room featured a large window of thick, darkened glass, overlooking the construction bay. At one end of the room was a long, complex-looking control console, covered with monitoring and tracking displays. Ami sat down and flicked a switch, and the screens glowed with power.

"Communications are active," she announced. "Internal diagnostics…power and fuel…inertial tracking…all systems read green. Let me check the alignment with the bore-hole…" She ran her fingers over the keyboard. "Twelve millimetres off, well within parameters." She continued on in a dialogue with her assistants for a few minutes, but Makoto stopped paying attention. Down in the bay, the bore stirred, and ground forward slowly until its nose was just a few centimetres from the guide-hole.

"All right," Ami said at last. "Bringing it up to speed now…"

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, gradually, the bore's nose began to rotate more quickly. The faint blue haze that had clung to it faded out of view. Faster and faster it spun, until all details were lost and Makoto could only see a blur of motion. There was a high-pitched whining sound, faint at first but becoming louder and louder, and rising in pitch until it was almost painful. The floor seemed to vibrate, very faintly. One of Ami's aides passed around earmuffs, and they put them on gratefully.

There was a sudden click in Makoto's earmuffs, and she heard Ami's voice say clearly, "And here we go."

Suddenly there was a brilliant white light down in the bay, coming from the bore's nose. It dimmed a little, flickered, then became constant. The hydrogen flame, Makoto realised. Was it just her imagination, or were the edges of the guide-hole already glowing red? She thought she saw drops of molten rock fall to the floor.

"Makoto-chan, are you sure you don't want to do the honours?"

Makoto looked around. Ami was grinning at her. She shook her head hastily.

Ami shrugged, and pressed one last key on her console. The bore began to move forward once more. As the nose touched the edges of the guide-hole, there was a veritable explosion of dust, splinters of rock and globules of semi-molten stone. Many of them struck the window with a series of sharp _cracks_, causing several of the Senshi to jump back, startled. At the same time, the sound from within the bay rose to an unearthly roar. Makoto could feel it in her bones now.

She had seen a rocket launch into orbit, once, back in the early twenty- first century, a little before the Ice began. That was the only noise she had ever heard that was louder than this.

Slowly, the bore passed into the tunnel. As the upper caterpillar tracks found a purchase on rock, the whole bore shuddered, and the noise peaked again. A vast jet of material—powder, white-hot droplets of lava and a thick, dark, roiling smoke—shot out of the rear port like water from a geyser. Several of the lights down in the construction bay exploded. In moments, the smoke blocked all view of what was happening—except for the brilliant glow that came from the tail of the bore, which continued to be visible for a few minutes more before all sight of it was finally lost.

"Wow," said Haruka's voice through their headsets. "Quite a show, Ami-chan."

"Thank you," replied Ami. "It all seems to have gone quite well."

"What, are you kidding?" said Makoto involuntarily. The noise from the bay was still ear-splitting, but she heard her own voice through her headset, and realised that they must all have two-way communication.

"Not at all. Compared to some of our test runs, that was quite smooth."

"And I thought geology was a boring subject," murmured Michiru.

"So it's off," intoned Minako, "on a Journey to the Centre of the Earth!"

"Not quite the centre, Minako-chan—"

"Oh, well. A miss is as good as a molehill."

They all heard Ami sigh. "Whatever you say…"

- - -

**Interlude**

The Queen went back to her palace, and the other Senshi to their holidays. Time passed, as Ami's machine worked its way patiently into the Earth.

It moved slowly, once it began to pass through solid rock: less than a centimetre a second. It was aimed downward at an angle of twenty degrees, so it had nearly six kilometres to go before it reached the anomaly. Even so, it should have made the trip in a little under seven days, and returned to the surface in only another two more.

Things did not work out quite that simply. The bore broke down twice, and had to be repaired. Each time, this required leaving it to cool for some time before technicians could venture down the tunnel, wearing breathing masks and protective suits, to make repairs which, performed in such cramped conditions, were rather lengthy.

Rei's birthday was on the 17th of April. Makoto did not go to the party; she claimed to be ill. Rei did not seem noticeably upset at the news.

As the bore approached the underground anomaly, its onboard sensor package began to return some very unusual readings. Most of them did not make much sense. Ami was almost bursting with frustration.

There was no moon on the 25th of April. The bore finally returned to the surface shortly before midnight. It had penetrated to a carefully- calculated two metres short of the target. Ami had to be physically restrained from going down to investigate as soon as the way was clear; but she had hardly slept for two days, and her assistants cared more about her than they did about the threats she made as they put her to bed.

The next day was the beginning of the end.

- - -

**26 April, 3478**

The workmen sent down to clear the last two metres of rock were the first to see the anomaly. Ami had wanted to be with them, but the workmen had pointed out, very politely, that she would be in the way. Tense and angry, mostly with herself, she sat in the control room at the head of the tunnel and listened as they worked. Artemis and Minako waited with her, carefully staying out of her way.

For a while there was only the screaming of drills and saws, and an occasional clatter as another chunk of rock fell to the floor of the tunnel. Then they heard one of the drills whine to a halt.

"Mizuno-sama?" came the voice of one of the workmen. "Are you there?"

"Yes," Ami replied instantly. "What is it, borehead?"

"How long ago was that bore working down here?"

Ami raised her eyebrows. "About two days ago," she said. "Why? Is the tunnel still too hot?"

"Well…no." The man sounded puzzled. "That's the thing. It isn't hot at all. It's cold."

"Cold?" she answered, not certain she had heard correctly. "How cold?"

"You know when you open a freezer and touch the ice inside, and your finger sticks to it? That cold. If it weren't for these special suits of yours, we'd be freezing."

The other two men chimed in, adding their agreement. Ami frowned in thought. The insulating suits had been made to keep heat out, not in, but they worked either way. Still, what could explain the heat loss? The anomaly could hardly be acting as a heat sink; it would have warmed to the temperature of the surrounding rock millennia before.

Briefly, she considered pulling the men out, and going down to check herself. It would be the prudent thing to do. But they were supposed to stop just short of the anomaly itself anyway; Ami was to handle the actual penetration herself. And if they were nearly finished…

"How much further do you have to go?" she asked at last. "Is it too cold to continue? I could send down a heating unit, but it would take a while to get there."

She heard a hurried discussion between the men. "Another twenty minutes should do it," came the reply. "We can manage that long."

"All right. Let me know if anything changes."

The drills started up again. Ami sat back, still frowning. She turned on the Mercury computer and tinkered around with it for a while, trying to come up with a model that would explain the temperature drop. It was a pity that she hadn't sent an instrument package down with the workmen; but the drills would have thrown off the readings, so she hadn't bothered.

"What could be causing that?" asked Minako softly after a little.

"It's too soon to tell," she answered absently. "There could be a pocket of ice in the rock…" She trailed off dubiously. "Or it may not be a natural phenomenon," she admitted.

"Something wrong?" said another voice behind her.

She looked around, to see Princess Usagi and Diana coming in. "Not wrong, exactly," she said, frustrated. She explained what was happening. "I was expecting some unusual physical properties," she finished. "I noticed that the anomaly absorbed most kinds of energy, last year. But drawing in ambient heat on this scale…I never expected anything like this."

"Is it dangerous?" insisted Minako. There was no sign of her usual spacey personality; she was all business now, totally focused.

Ami gave a helpless shrug. "I don't see how it could be," she said. "Their insulating suits should protect them from—"

The sound of drills over the commlink whined down to a halt again. "Control room, say again?" queried one of the workmen.

Ami blinked. "What was that?" she said into the commlink. "We didn't say anything to you."

There was a pause. "I thought I heard your voice," the workman said. "It sounded like—"

There was a sudden burst of static from the commlink.

"Borehead, what did you say?" called Ami.

The workman did not answer.

"Hello?" Ami checked the commlink. "There's no carrier signal," she said, frowning. "It's as if they just disap—"

The sound came back with a crackle, making them all jump. "—trol room, are you there?" called the workman.

Ami shot a look at Minako—puzzled, and beginning to be a little worried. "Borehead, we hear you," she said. "Are you receiving me?"

"Received that," the man replied, sounding relieved. "We're getting some odd signals down here—" He broke off. "There it is again," he said, suddenly agitated. "A funny sound. Like an echo…"

There was another short burst of static.

"Say again?" said the workman.

"Borehead, we didn't say anything," said Ami.

"Say again?"

"Borehead, do you read me?" Ami glanced around at Minako again, then back to her console. She was definitely looking worried now.

"Get them out," said Minako.

More static on the commlink. Then: "Say again?"

"It could just be the commlink," said Usagi tentatively.

"Get them out," Minako repeated.

Ami hesitated. "Maybe you're right," she said reluctantly. She tapped at the controls. "Borehead, abort the operation," she ordered. "Return to the surface. Do you read me?"

There was a long silence. Then there was another sharp burst of static, and they heard a voice: a young child's voice, reciting. It counted from one to ten, then started over again. In the middle of the third repetition, the static returned once more and there was silence.

"Interference," suggested Artemis nervously.

"No," Ami said, checking her instruments. "No, that came down there."

There was a faint hiss from the speakers. A voice said, "Borehead." It was fuzzy, distorted, but it was clearly Ami's voice. "Borehead," it repeated.

They exchanged glances.

Suddenly, shockingly, the speakers burst into a roar of sound, an ear-splitting tearing cacophony. All of them jumped, and Usagi cried out in surprise. Then, one by one, they recognised the sound.

It was the drills at work again.

"They're going on," whispered Ami.

"Usagi!" rapped Minako. "Change. We're going down."

The princess stared at her for a moment, open-mouthed. Then she raised a hand to her brooch and cried out, "Moon crisis make-up!" The lights of transformation began to swirl around her.

Minako did not bother with her henshin wand. She narrowed her eyes in concentration, and a wave of colour washed over her. Moments later, Sailor Venus stood in her place.

"Minako," said Ami. "You can't take Usagi! She's the princess—"

"She's also a Senshi," said Venus coldly, "and I want you to stay up here for now. Keep trying to contact those men. See if any of the other Senshi are around, and get ready to call them if I give the word."

Usagi was not in her Eternal form, Ami suddenly realised. She had only become Super Sailor Moon. None of the other Senshi had ever gained an Eternal transformation; but Usagi had reached hers long ago. Of course, wings would be inconvenient in the tunnel…

"Mina-chan," she tried again, "don't you think you're overreacting?"

Venus did not spare her a glance. "No," she replied calmly. "You'd better contact the Queen as wel—"

Over the commlink, the sounds of the drills suddenly rose to a scream. They heard a shout of surprise—and then a shriek of pain. Somebody cried out a question, barely audible. There was a strange whining sound. Then one voice cut across the noise.

"I…I broke through into something…" the man gabbled. "It felt like…I don't know what it felt like…" His voice became a wail. "I can't feel my hand!"

There was a new surge of static over the link. For an instant it cleared and they heard the other men, crying out in shock and fear. Then the static was back, smothering all other sound.

"No," Ami whispered. "They were supposed to stop short of the anomaly. They weren't supposed to go all the way…"

"You ready, Usagi?" said Venus calmly.

"Yes," said Sailor Moon.

"Then let's go. Grab that first-aid kit." Venus began to unseal the door that led out into the bay where the tunnel began. Moon snatched the first-aid kit from its wall mount, and a pair of torches; then, as an afterthought, she bent down and picked up one of the satchels of instruments that Ami had prepared.

_She doesn't want me to go,_ Ami thought with a shock. _She wants me to stay at the controls._ It was a disturbing thought. Did Venus only think of her as a scientist? Had Ami become that far removed from her duties as a Senshi, over the years?

The door swung open. A faint chill seemed to enter the control room; but that, surely, was only imagination. Venus did not hesitate; she ran out into the bay, closely followed by Moon. Moments later, the two entered the mouth of the tunnel and were lost to view.

- - -

The minutes passed. Ami contacted Rei and briefed her on what was happening, asking her to stand by in case she was needed. By the time she was finished, her computer showed that the rescue party had almost reached their target. The link to the borehead was completely dead now, except for a faint hiss that rose and fell regularly.

"You're getting near the bottom," she told Venus. "Another five hundred metres."

"Roger," Venus replied. "It's hard to make any speed in this tunnel. The walls and floor are covered with this fine powder, but underneath that it's very smooth. Not much traction."

"Yes, I know. The suits those men are wearing have special boots that help, but they wouldn't fit a Senshi uniform. All the same—"

The door opened suddenly, and she looked up, expecting to see Rei. Instead, to her surprise, Sailor Pluto came in. "Setsuna?" she said, startled.

The Senshi of Time looked as if she had been running. "I thought I felt…something," she said. "I couldn't tell what, but—"

Artemis began to explain what was happening. Ami listened for a few moments; but then her communicator beeped again. She tapped it quickly. "Yes?" she said.

"It's me," came Venus' voice. The little screen remained blank; it was too dark in the tunnel to pick up her face. "We've met the workmen; they were heading up on foot. One of them—" She broke off for a moment, then said, "The one who was hurt. His hand. I've never seen anything like it."

"What?"

"His glove was torn off. Shredded. His hand—he—it's like a burn, but more than that. It's…blurred, it's as if—as if something's taken his whole forearm and…twisted it somehow, distorted it—" Venus sounded sick. "It hardly looks like a hand any more…"

"Minako-chan—" Ami began.

"No," Venus said quickly. "It's all right. I'm all right now." They heard her take a deep breath. "We're heading up. I'm carrying the man who was hurt. Usagi is bringing up the rear, in case…you know. In case anything happens."

"I'll come down," Ami said. "You should have taken me in the first place. I'm a doctor—"

"How well could you have treated him when he's sealed in an insulating suit?" pointed out Venus. "We'll be back at the surface in another ten minutes anyway."

Ami forbore to mention that ten minutes could mean life or death. Venus knew that. But Venus, like all the other Senshi, had had a fair bit of paramedical training. If she didn't think there was anything Ami could have done for the man…

Instead she asked, "Is he still alive?"

"Yes. I think so. He's unconscious, anyway. He—where I can touch it, his skin feels cold. Clammy. But he's breathing." Venus' voice dropped to a near-whisper. "They were right. It was icy down there. We didn't get right down to the bottom, we met them some way up, but even there it was freezing."

Ami did not answer immediately. At last she said, "Hurry back."

"We are," Venus said promptly. "It's easier, going up." After a moment she added, "You'd better have an ambulance standing by."

"I've called one," Ami replied. "It'll be here by the time you arrive."

"This shouldn't be happening," said Pluto softly. "I didn't foresee this."

Ami looked up at her quickly, then bent her head to her communicator once more. "Usagi, how are you doing?" she asked. "Are the other two men all right?

There was no answer.

Ami stiffened, and glanced back at Pluto once more. "Usagi? Sailor Moon, do you hear me? Are you—"

"I hear you."

She let out a breath. "What's wrong? Why didn't you—are the other two men all right?"

For a moment, Moon did not reply. Then she said, "I'm not with them. I sent them on ahead."

"You—" Ami looked stunned. "Why? What did you—" She broke off suddenly, and checked the tracking monitor on her computer. "Princess, no!"

"I'm almost at the bottom now, I think. It's very cold, but I can stand it."

"Usagi, no!" Ami shouted. "You mustn't! It's too dangerous—"

"Ami-chan," Moon interrupted her. "Somebody must. We have to know what's down here. And I'm not a kid any more, remember?" For a moment there was amusement in her voice. Then she went on, "I have one of your instrument packs, too. You'll be able to get some decent readings."

Before Ami could respond, she added, "You know I'm right."

For what seemed like a long time, Ami did not reply. At last she said, "It's not as though I have a choice, is it?" She sighed. "Be as quick as you can, then. And be careful, Usagi. When you get back up here, you know your mother is going to have a few words with you about this."

Moon laughed. "I know."

The communicator fell silent. Ami looked around to Artemis and Pluto, silently asking for suggestions. After a moment, Artemis said, "You could try teleporting down to help, if anything does go wrong."

Pluto shook her head. Ami replied quietly, "No. I thought of that; but the gravimetric distortion from the anomaly makes it impossible to get near. Even if it weren't for that, it would be risky through that much solid rock. That's why the two of them had to go down on foot in the first place."

She took a deep breath, and said, "She's on her own. And she knows it."

"This shouldn't be happening," Pluto repeated quietly. Then she added, "Something is twisting my sight."

Ami looked up at her. "What does that mean?" she asked. "What could be causing it?"

Pluto met her gaze, then glanced away. "I don't know," she said. There was a note of frustration in her voice. "I can't see it. I can't see…anything." She wrinkled her brow. "If I could just remember—"

Moon's voice came from the communicator once more. "I'm at the bottom," she said. "I can see the gap the men opened up." She sounded puzzled. "It's—larger than I'd expected. I didn't think they could clear that much so fast…"

Immediately Ami's attention was back on her controls. "Is there any activity coming from the anomaly?" she asked. "Any…sign of life?"

"No. It's completely quiet. I can't see anything in there at all, it's just a solid black. I—wait a minute, I'll take a closer look—"

"No!" Ami shouted. "Stay away from it! Just…activate that instrument package and get out of there, all right?"

Moon hesitated. "All right," she said reluctantly. "I'm setting it up now…There. How's that?"

Ami checked her readouts, and sighed. "Nothing," she reported. "All the signals are being blocked." She frowned. "That package broadcasts on a very wide band. How could it—"

"Ami?" called Moon. "Did you hear me? How's that?"

"Still nothing," Ami responded. "Could you try pointing your communicator in the same direction as your torch? I should be able to feed the picture into my computer and—"

"Ami?"

Ami froze.

"Ami, can you hear me?"

Suddenly Pluto was at her side, speaking into her own communicator. "Princess, if you can hear me, get out _now_," she said urgently. "Princess, can you hear me? Small Lady?"

"It shouldn't be able to block our communicators," Ami whispered. "They don't use radio waves at all—"

"Ami, can you hear me?" Moon called. "Ami? Anybody?"

"We hear you!" Artemis shouted. "Sailor Moon, answer me!"

Complete silence.

Ami looked up at Pluto, white-faced. "Can't you—"

Her communicator came to life again. "All right," Moon said. Her voice was calm, quiet; but they could hear the hidden strain in it. "I'm going to keep talking, and assume that you can hear me. Just…just in case. I'm collecting the instrument pack, and then I'll head straight back up. The anomaly is still quiet, so I hope I—that is, I'm pretty sure I'll be all right."

Much softer, under her breath, they heard her add, "Scared of the dark…like a stupid little kid…"

Then louder, and apparently making a deliberate effort to sound cheerful, she went on, "Did I tell you, Ami-chan? I saw the temperature readout on these instruments of yours. Minus seventeen degrees. No wonder those workmen were complaining!"

"Minus seventeen?" Ami said. "But that's…"

Her eyes widened suddenly, and she tapped at her computer. "Two million years," she murmured after a moment.

"What?" asked Artemis.

"We analysed some of the rock fragments that came back on the bore," she said. "That's how old the strata that the anomaly is lying in is. That thing's been there for a long time."

Pluto frowned. "Two…?" she muttered.

Artemis looked at Ami, incredulous. "But if the anomaly had been down there for that long, absorbing heat energy like that…it would have been found long ago!"

"Or," Ami said grimly, "it wasn't that temperature all that time. Maybe something woke it up. Something like a series of seismic echoes, sent out to probe it. Or something like a subway bore sent down to carve out a tunnel leading right to it…"

"Two million…" said Pluto. She was still frowning.

There was a sudden bang, making them all jump. The door into the bay had been thrown open. Venus stood there. She was covered, head to toe, in a fine black dust; her hair was grey with it. She left black footprints as she came in.

"What happened?" she demanded. "I've been trying to get hold of her, and she doesn't answer. What happened to Sailor Moon?"

Ami whispered, "She's still down there. Right at the bottom…"

Artemis began to explain to Venus, but Ami was hardly listening. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see activity down in the bay: a medical team, clustered around the three workmen. One of them was being strapped to a stretcher. She turned away from the sight, looking back to her control panel. Its blank displays stared mockingly back at her.

_I did it. I triggered it…_

As if in response to her thought, her communicator came to life once more. "I'm finished," Moon reported. "The instruments are all packed away. I'm starting back up now; I shouldn't be too—"

She stopped.

"Usagi!" shouted Venus.

For a moment longer the communicator was silent. Then they heard Moon start to curse. "Oh, no. Oh, damn, no, oh shit—"

She fell silent once more, but they could still hear her breathing, as if she were angry—or afraid. Then her voice returned—tense, half-strangled. "The lights are going out," she whispered. "The torches are going out. All of them. It's getting dark. They're going out…"

Two miles underground. No darkness could be deeper.

"Those torches have crystal cells," said Venus, eerily calm. "The power supply should last forever. It shouldn't be possible to drain them."

"I know," said Ami.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then Moon said, in a voice whose mask of control almost matched Venus', "They're gone. It's pitch-black. I think I…can manage. I hope. I'll start to find my way up. I-if you can hear me, send someone down to meet me, with another torch. Please…"

Venus nodded shortly. Ami pointed to a nearby locker, and Venus opened it, pulling out an emergency kit and another pair of torches.

Then Moon cursed again. "Wait a minute, I'm all turned around. Which way is up—?"

"Usagi, no," groaned Artemis.

Moon's voice came again, low and tremulous. "I can see something," she said. "It's not dark. There's a faint glow coming from…somewhere. Very faint, and dim. It's—it's coming from the gap. It's coming from…from _behind_ the blackness—

"Wait. I see. The anomaly—it's an energy field. A force field of some kind. Like a bubble. Hollow. The field isn't quite opaque—it's translucent, I can almost see through it, there's something inside there…something glowing—

"I think it's alive."

Venus threw the door open and sprinted out into the bay. She vanished down into the tunnel.

"I think it's looking at me," Moon whispered. "It sees me…how can it see in the dark? I don't like the dark."

Artemis stared at the communicator. "What are you—" he began incredulously.

"It can't be used to light," said Moon. Her voice was strange: slow, dreamy. "Maybe that's why it's…it's draining everything. I'm cold, Mama." She did not appear to notice the non sequitur. "I'm going to make a light. A bright light. If I could just see it clearly, maybe I could…could…"

"What is she talking about?" demanded Artemis. Knowing it was useless, he shouted, "Princess, leave it! Get out!"

The communicator seemed to ring as Sailor Moon shouted. "MOONFLASH!"

Pluto's eyes snapped wide open. "Oh, _no_," she said, and vanished.

Suddenly the communicator burst into a roar of sound. Static, surely; white noise at a volume that seemed incredible for such a tiny device. But mixed with it, the listeners almost thought they could hear voices—thousands of voices, calling. Screaming.

Just as suddenly, it stopped, and there was a bare moment's silence. They heard Sailor Moon say clearly, "It is free."

There was a strange splashing sound, like a cup of water being poured out on the ground.

The communicator went dead.

Numbly, Ami stared down at the little unit in her hand. The screen was glowing with a message that she'd hoped she'd never see: a completely automatic signal, horribly clear. TERMINATION. Then that too blinked out.

She tried again and again, knowing it was useless; but the only signal she could pick up now was from Venus, still on her mad, desperate, futile race back down into the Earth.

After a while, the shock wore off enough for her to be able to call Venus and tell her the news.

- - -

When Venus returned to the surface, Ami finally transformed to Sailor Mercury—there hadn't been any point before, not until the very end, and by then it was too late—and the two of them teleported, with Artemis, directly into the Palace. It was a breach of protocol, but none of them cared. They materialised in the Throne Room, and immediately saw that they did not need to look any further for the Queen.

Where the twin thrones had stood, there was a sphere of energy, several metres wide. It looked like a huge ball of glass…or perhaps crystal. It was perfectly transparent; it would have been invisible, if its surface had not caught the light and reflected it at a hundred thousand angles.

In the centre of the ball was Queen Serenity. She floated there, curled up in a foetal ball, suspended in mid-air. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were clasped to her breast; there was something glowing held between them. She did not appear to be breathing.

The sphere was surrounded by people, gesturing and talking and arguing. Mars and Endymion and Luna were among them. Venus recognised most of the rest as being personal aides and city officials. They all looked up as she and Sailor Mercury appeared.

Sailor Mars stepped forward to meet them. "I was just about to call you," she said.

"What _happened_?" Venus demanded. "Is it the attack? Did it hit her too?"

Mars appeared to be controlling herself with an effort. "Actually, as far as we can tell she did it herself," she answered levelly. Then she froze. "Wait. What do you mean, 'too'?"

And then they had to tell them all what had happened to the Princess.

Mercury let Venus do most of the talking. She did not have the stomach to listen for long. When she heard Endymion's incredulous grief, she backed quietly away and went to look at the sphere.

There were no tears in her. Not yet. She was still numb.

She reached out and touched the surface of the globe. It was cool and slick to the touch, but there was a tingle in her fingers. She pressed a little harder. It did not give at all. She filed the information away for later contemplation and turned her attention to the Queen.

From this distance she could make out what Serenity was holding. She hissed in shock at the sight.

The Ginzuishou was cupped in Serenity's hands. It flickered and pulsed madly, like a thing alive, as if some titanic battle were raging in its depths. At times it was incandescent, too bright to look at. At others it seemed almost dead, little more than a many-faceted glass bauble. And now and then, just for an instant, she thought she could see something else: a wink of darkness, a cancerous un-light that stabbed at the centre of the stone, before a new pulse of light drove it out—

"What…?" she breathed.

"It began just before you arrived," said Luna. Mercury glanced down quickly; she had not heard the cat approach. Luna continued, "She was talking to a Finnish party of trade officials. Then suddenly she stood up. She shouted, 'No, don't!' Something like that. Then she screamed, and pulled the Ginzuishou out. It was glowing, but not—not normally. A _dark_ kind of glow. I don't know how to describe it…"

"You're doing fine," said Mercury. "What happened?"

Luna shook her head. She said, "She held it for a few seconds. It looked as though it was hurting her. Then she screamed again. 'No, I won't let you!' And there was a brilliant flash of light, and when we could see again—"

"You saw this," Mercury finished for her. She touched the sphere again. It tingled, as before. "Some kind of protective shield, perhaps."

"How can you be so cold?" someone said from behind her. Mars' voice. "How can you just _talk_ about it so calmly when the Princess is—"

She broke off. There was something odd in her voice. Mercury looked around and saw why. Mars was crying; the tears ran down her cheeks ceaselessly. She did nothing to stop them; she simply stood there and wept. It was one of the most heart-rending things Mercury had ever seen.

_The Princess,_ she realised. Usagi was dead: Small Lady, Chibi-Usa, Sailor Moon…the daughter of Serenity and Endymion, but in many ways a daughter to them all. Gone. Dead.

She wished she could cry too. But she could not. She was not certain that she had the right.

Luna cleared her throat, and she looked down quickly. The cat was outwardly calm, but Mercury suddenly saw how much of an effort it was for her to keep from joining Mars.

"Serenity implied that something was attacking her," Luna said. "Or perhaps, striking at the Ginzuishou itself. Do you think it's connected to what happened to…to the Princess?"

"I would say," said Artemis, "that that is a pretty safe assumption."

Mercury turned away from the sphere. She did not want to look at it any more. She felt suddenly tired. _Stress; shock; emotional exhaustion,_ she thought analytically. She sat down on the dais beside the sphere. She wanted it all to go away. She wanted to stop thinking.

Something hot fell on her hand. She looked down. Amazing. It seemed that she could cry after all.

Above her head, the world rolled on. Venus and Endymion had joined them now. In the background, somebody was clearing all the other people out of the Throne Room. Within an hour, the whole world would know that something had happened to the Queen.

She heard Endymion's voice, though the words did not register. He had stopped crying; now, he sounded as if he were barely controlling his rage.

Rei's voice: sharp, just as angry, snapping something back. Then Artemis, soothing, trying to play the peacemaker. Good luck to him. Mercury had an idea that the time for peace was gone.

Venus' voice was suddenly raised in protest; in spite of herself, Mercury lifted her head to listen. "But how?" Venus burst out. "I thought the Ginzuishou was supposed to be—I don't know, invulnerable! Impervious! What could affect something that powerful?"

Mercury shook her head, and said, "Something new."

"Or something very old," put in Artemis.

She looked at him. "Yes," she admitted.

"Have you called the others?" asked Mars. "If this enemy can affect the Ginzuishou itself…and, oh, God, the Princess…"

Venus shook her head wearily. "Not yet," she said. "But you're right. We're going to want everybody in on this…"

She activated her communicator and started making calls. As it turned out, though, their information was already out-of-date.

- - -

Makoto was in Bali when everything went mad. She was lying on the beach, lazing in the sun. It was only the middle of spring, and it had rained earlier, but now the sky was clear, the air warm and humid. A music rom was playing by her side, and she was humming along contentedly, when the first screams began.

She sat up, letting the rom shut off automatically. Some distance down the beach, people were running and shouting. They sounded frightened, but why? Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary—

Then she saw the bodies, and the blood soaking into the sand.

She stared in shock. What had happened, what could possibly have killed them? She stood up and started toward the scene to investigate—

Just a few metres away from her, a man suddenly clutched his head and cried out in pain. Makoto looked around quickly. She took a single step toward him, one hand outstretched to offer help…and froze.

The man's body began to twist and writhe. He shrieked. Bones shattered with a series of muffled cracking sounds. His screams cut off as his skull abruptly deformed into something utterly inhuman.

He tumbled to the sand, obviously dead.

All around her, the same thing was happening to others. Most of them died, thankfully. But a few of them did not. Their transformations continued, and continued. They shifted and warped, screaming in torment all the while. They began to grow. Their skins became hard and glossy…crystalline. When the change was finished at last, she found herself looking at monsters.

They were the size of grizzly bears: squat, powerful, and apparently made out of living glass, but Makoto had the feeling that it would take more than throwing stones to shatter one. They had no heads, but in the centre of their chests were faces, startlingly (shockingly) human-like, their eyes closed, their mouths hanging slackly open. They had four arms. When they walked, she could feel the impact of their footsteps in the sand.

They began to move about. Their targets seemed to be the people who had not changed. Several of them made for her.

She transformed to Sailor Jupiter, just in time. Within three and a half minutes of the first screams, she was fighting for her life. When Venus' call came through, she had no time to spare to answer.

- - -

Haruka and Michiru were strolling through an art gallery in Osaka when the madness began. A third of the patrons began to scream and mutate. Most of them died. A few of them became…monstrosities.

Sailors Uranus and Neptune went into action before the first vitrification was complete. Neptune got the remaining people to safety, while Uranus went on the attack. She soon found that, glasslike or not, they were amazingly tough. It was not until Neptune returned and joined in the attack that she managed to make any headway.

Their combined attacks were enough to destroy the things, thankfully. They were just polishing off the last one when Uranus' communicator bleeped. She answered it somewhat testily.

"Just fine, thanks," she said to Venus' orders to report in. "Couldn't be better. A nice romantic outing, a few glass monsters, a bunch of dead people, the day just couldn't be better. Oh, and how are you?"

"Monsters?" Venus sounded disconcerted. "This may be more widespread than I thought. Uranus, we have _major_ trouble back here—"

"Here, too," interrupted Neptune. Uranus looked up at her, surprised, and she pointed to a nearby window. Uranus glanced out, and her eyes widened.

The street was filled with more of the glass creatures. All of them seemed to be heading directly toward the gallery.

Uranus let out a whistle. "We're going to need reinforcements for this one," she said. Neptune nodded. The two of them linked hands and teleported to Crystal Tokyo.

- - -

The question was not whether reinforcement were needed, but rather where to reinforce.

They held a council of war in the Throne Room. Mercury, Venus, Mars, Uranus, Neptune and Endymion were present. Serenity was in the room, but none of them could tell if she was hearing them or not. Jupiter was still in Bali—they had had a short, hurried message from her that spoke of the same kind of monsters that Uranus and Neptune had met. Unfortunately, Serenity, Venus and Pluto were still the only ones who could teleport alone; the rest of them needed to be in at least pairs. Jupiter was on her way, but it might take her an hour or two to get there.

Pluto did not answer her communicator. Nobody knew where she was.

With reports of attacks in two places already, Rei did a little investigation. The results were shocking. Reports were coming in of similar occurrences in other places. A great many other places. Kyoto, Sapporo, Nagasaki, Kagoshima…and Beijing, Calcutta, Johannesburg, Rome, London, Montreal, Los Angeles, Sydney…

It was everywhere.

Some newscasters were calling it the Glass Plague. Others spoke of the Madness. Countless thousands of people were dead already. And everywhere, the monsters roamed the streets, destroying.

- - -

Clearly, precisely, Mercury explained what had happened. She made no attempt to conceal her own guilt in the matter. "I've been able to check the timing pretty accurately," she said. "These glass creatures began to appear just a few seconds after Sailor Moon d-died," she said. Nobody said anything about the stumble. Mercury's face was pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes, but she was holding together. "The overwhelming probability is that there's a connection," she went on. "Whoever—or whatever is down there must be responsible for the creatures."

"What do you think it is?" asked Endymion quietly.

Mercury shrugged. "Some kind of alien life-form, I would assume," she said. "The energy barrier Sailor Moon spoke of could have been a type of protective stasis field—"

"Or a prison," said Uranus grimly.

Mercury looked startled. "Yes, perhaps," she said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Does it really matter?" demanded Luna. "Our first priority has to be helping the Queen. Nothing's more important than that!"

"Actually, I disagree," said Neptune calmly. "The Queen is safe, for now. Our first priority needs to be stopping the enemy. Destroying it, if necessary."

"How?" demanded Artemis. "Do you want to go down and attack it in person? It can drain a torch, remember. I hope you like fighting in the dark—"

"There are other kinds of torches," said Mars, her voice cold. "Simple wooden ones, if necessary. I'd like to see it drain a flame."

"What if it _can_?" asked Venus.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Mars flared up.

"Actually, I have a thought," put in Endymion unexpectedly. They all turned to look at him. "How smooth is the floor of that tunnel? And how steep is it?"

Venus raised her eyebrows. "Pretty smooth, and pretty steep," she said. "I can tell you that from experience."

"Twenty point three six degrees," added Mercury. Then she flushed. "Sorry."

"What are you getting at?" demanded Uranus.

"I was thinking of rolling bombs down," Endymion said. His voice was quiet and composed, as if he were discussing the weather.

Uranus stared at him, half in admiration. "You what?"

He looked up at her. "That thing down there killed my daughter," he said simply. For just a moment, the calm veneer cracked, and she recoiled from the look in his eye: a smouldering, murderous cauldron of grief and rage that threatened dire vengeance on anyone who got in his way.

"Could it be done?" Venus asked Mercury.

Mercury thought about it. "Yes, I should think so," she said after a moment. "It would take a day or so to build—the bomb would have to be carefully shaped, and I'd have to shock-proof it—we wouldn't be able to set it off remotely, so it would have to be a timed fuse…"

"Don't bother," said Luna.

Endymion gave her a hard look. "Why not?" he asked dangerously.

"Just send the bore back down," she suggested. "It should go a lot faster through a ready-made tunnel. Only this time, don't stop it when it gets to the anomaly."

They thought about it. Mars, Uranus and Endymion began to smile. Artemis shook his head. "Did anyone ever tell you you have a vicious streak?" he asked Luna.

"It killed Princess Usagi," she said quietly.

He looked away for a moment. "I've been trying not to think about it," he admitted. "It's too…too big. I can't…" His voice broke for a moment. "She's gone, and we don't even have time to mourn her," he went on at last. "It's not…not…"

"Not fair," said Endymion softly. "No. It's not fair." He took a deep breath, then stood up and shifted into his armour. "Sailor Venus, please consider me under your command for the duration of this crisis," he requested.

Venus nodded. "Thank you," she said. She looked at him sidelong for a second, and then added, "In that case, my first order is: don't go off half-cocked. You are not to go taking private action, understand? If you're going to be part of the team, you are to _act_ as part of the team."

He took it fairly well, all things considered; he gave her a single mute nod and then sat back down.

"That goes for the rest of you, too," Venus went on, glaring around at the others. "This is too big to go playing those kinds of games. Understand?" One by one, they nodded back at her.

"All right," she said, relaxing a little. "Mercury, get onto that bore right away. It sounds like our best shot for now. Can you program it to do what we want? I suppose you won't be able to steer it by remote control."

"Not with the signal jamming," agreed Mercury. "Give me half an hour to reprogram the onboard computers. I'll set it to—"

Venus waved her silent. "Tell me the details later," she said. "Just get started. Mars, get back to the communications centre. See if you can get me a better picture of what's happening. Uranus, Neptune, take a flyer and have a look around in the city. Keep an eye open for any of those monsters. Take care of them if you see any."

"And if we run into too many of them to handle?" asked Neptune with a faint smile.

Venus looked her straight in the eye. "Deal with it," she said.

Uranus grinned. "Gotcha." She and Neptune left quickly.

"What about me?" asked Endymion quietly.

Venus nodded. "You'll act as backup, for now. Be ready to move out if Haruka and Michiru run into trouble. In the meantime, see if you can get hold of Makoto, and get an update from her. And…" She hesitated. "Try and find Sailor Pluto. You're Serenity's consort, she may pay more attention to you."

"Do you really think so?" He looked amused.

Venus did not. "It's worth a try. Also—" She wrinkled her brow, looking around the room. "Has anybody seen Diana?"

Luna looked up. "She ran off when she heard about Usagi. I think she was going to—" She stopped suddenly. "Well, that doesn't matter now," she went on after a moment. "I don't think you need to worry about her, though."

Artemis gave her a puzzled look. "Where—"

"I'll tell you some other time," she snapped.

"All right, enough chatter," Venus ordered. "Let's get going, everyone. Move out!" She watched as they left. In a few moments, there were only herself, the cats, and the unmoving Serenity left.

"What are you going to be doing?" asked Luna curiously.

"Going to the borehead, I think," she said absently, gazing down at the Queen. "I wish…"

She knelt suddenly by the sphere, looking into her still face. "Dammit, Serenity!" she whispered. "First the Black Moon, now this! Why do you always have to be immobilised when we need you the most?"

She stayed there for some time, waiting for an answer that never came. In the Queen's hands, the Ginzuishou continued to pulse and flicker, echoing some titanic inner struggle. She could only guess at what Serenity was going through, locked in that bubble.

Then she realised that something had changed. The Queen's eyes had been closed, before. Now they were open. They stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, but they were open.

She stared for a moment. Then she whispered aloud, "She's alive. She's _alive_."

Until that moment she had not realised how much she had been afraid that the Queen was dead. She lay there, so still and calm; the only sign of life at all was the flickering of the Ginzuishou in her hands. But now, there was no doubt.

She lifted a hand to touch the sphere for a moment. "Hold on," she murmured. "Just hold on. We'll get you out of this. I promise."

After a little, she could bear to turn away. She took a deep breath, and looked down at Luna and Artemis. "I'm going to the borehead," she told them. "Contact me if anything changes." Then she sped off.

The two cats exchanged glances; then, with a shrug, Artemis followed her.

- - -

Venus and Artemis arrived just as Mercury gave the bore's onboard computer the last of its instructions. She swung the access panels closed and re-sealed the heat shielding carefully, then ran back into the control room.

Her assistants watched her uneasily as she began to power up the control and monitoring stations. Distantly, she realised that this was probably the first time they'd seen her in her Senshi form, at least up-close. She didn't transform often, these days.

Down in the bay, the bore lurched forward. For several seconds it halted at the mouth of the hole, grinding slowly back and forward, aligning itself with the hole. Then it started forward once more, slowly passing out of sight. A jet of fine dust shot out of the rear port behind it.

Mercury sat back, satisfied. She turned and saw Venus, who raised an eyebrow. "It will take about three hours to reach the anomaly," Mercury said firmly. "I've programmed it to ignite its flame two hundred metres short of that point, or if it detects anything out of the ordinary in the tunnel. When it's gone two hundred metres past the anomaly, it will stop and return to the surface again."

"You'll be monitoring it, I assume," said Venus. "When do you expect to lose contact with it?"

Mercury shrugged. "If I had any idea what's causing the loss of signals from below…" She shook her head.

"All right." Venus thought for a moment. "Do you need to be here, or can your assistants handle things for now? If you can get away, I want you do take a better look at the Queen. See if you can find some way to shield the Ginzuishou."

"Yes, of course." Mercury glanced around. "Artemis, can you keep an eye on things here? Contact me if anything happens."

Artemis nodded. As the two left—not quite at a run, but moving fast—he hopped up onto one of the monitoring stations and settled down where he could see the displays. It would be a while before he could expect anything to happen, he knew. But if everything went well, this was where the battle would be won, in just a few short hours…

- - -

Sailor Mars cursed to herself, silently but steadily, as she went through report after report in the Palace communications centre. The madness had begun only two hours ago, but already the messages showed that this was the biggest disaster since the Black Moon invasion, centuries ago. Maybe the biggest ever.

It struck everywhere, but not with equal strength. More people were affected in large population centres, of course; but still, the ratios were not the same. In smaller, rural areas, the change struck down barely one in twenty. In larger cities it was double that. In a few areas, it was nearly one in six. Was there any pattern? She did not have enough data…

Ami would be able to make more sense of this, she realised. But Sailor Mercury had other priorities right now; and in any case, Rei had gotten very good with reports and statistics over the last few centuries.

(Rei the bureaucrat! The others wondered why she'd taken such a role, she knew. Well, let them wonder. But she thought sometimes that maybe, just maybe, Serenity understood.)

The timing was strange. The plague had struck everywhere, more or less simultaneously—and then stopped. There was one single, massive wave of changes, and then nothing. A few scattered reports of belated metamorphoses, but they were well within the margin of error. Had the plague somehow _used up_ everyone who could be affected?

She began to plot all outbreaks of the Glass Plague on a world map. It appeared to cover the entire globe; even the undersea habitats had been hit. There were no reports of it from the orbital colonies or anything further out, which was interesting. There were major concentrations in all the cities, of course—

Then she saw one glaring inconsistency, and wondered how she could have missed it before. She almost broke her thumb, activating her communicator to call Venus.

- - -

Sailor Jupiter fired off one last Oak Evolution, reducing the glass-like monster before her to splinters. She sagged back against a nearby wall, exhausted. She had been fighting for nearly two hours, almost non-stop. The creatures were everywhere. They seemed to follow her. Wherever she went, more turned up. She'd killed—she'd lost count of how many of them she'd killed.

_And all of them used to be innocent people._ But she couldn't afford to think about that. She was fighting for her life. If only she'd gotten them all…if only she could stop to catch her breath…

No such luck. The familiar thud-thud-thud of their footsteps came again, from behind her. The wall at her back shuddered, the impact sending her reeling away. Then the stone burst open, and two more of the monsters stalked through toward her.

_Sooner or later we're going to have to work out what to call these things,_ she thought irrationally. Then there was no more time for thought.

They didn't just rely on strength and toughness. They could move quite fast, for all their bulk, and some of them had other attacks. There was a kind of whirling cloud that they could produce, that she'd learned to watch out for. It looked like a puff of dust, but it could eat right through solid stone without slowing down, and she didn't want to find out what it would do to flesh.

She managed to blast an arm off one of them. It didn't seem to notice; it threw a massive punch at her that would have caved in her ribs if it had connected. She flung herself back, just in time, and fired her Echo Convulsion attack at the other one. The multiple arcs of energy danced about it for a second, then collapsed inward, piercing it from every direction at once and shivering it to pieces. She shouted in triumph—and realised her mistake an instant later as a new blow from the first monster clipped her in the side, knocking her flying.

There were black spots dancing before her eyes as she levered herself up again. The Convulsion attack had taken more energy than she could afford; she was close to passing out. She was pretty sure that blow had broken a rib or two, as well. But she had to keep going—the last monster was right on top of her—

There was a whooshing sound, and a loud explosion. Almost deafened, she looked around wildly. The monster was staggering back. There was a crater in its chest, and half of another arm was missing. What—?

"Are you all right, Ma'am?" somebody shouted in English. They must have been shouting, for her to hear it at all. Her ears were ringing. She glanced about, and saw a young man with the missile launcher over his shoulder. He was wearing a uniform that she recognised.

_I'll be damned,_ she thought wildly. _So Australia does have a secret base in Bali. I'll have to tell Endymion…_

A moment later, and the soldier was gone from the waist up. The vortex of crystal shards chewed him apart in a fraction of a second, leaving nothing but a bloody shower of shredded flesh behind. Jupiter cried out in fury, and fired her Supreme Thunder—all she had left—at the glass monster.

It was enough…barely. The monster shattered, even as Jupiter sagged back, all strength gone from her limbs. Two hours of combat shouldn't have exhausted her like this. Normally, though, she'd be fighting with the others; their backup and support would ease the load, let her even out the drain so she could keep going. But all on her own like this…

There were footsteps around her. Not heavy ones; these were lighter…human. She opened her eyes once more, took a deep breath, and managed to stand up.

"Lieutenant," she said in English to the leader of the little troop standing around her. With a wry grin, she went on, "Under the circumstances, I think that Crystal Tokyo may be prepared to turn a blind eye to any…er, activities that Australia may be conducting in Bali."

The attempt at humour fell flat. "With respect, Ma'am, I think that's kind of irrelevant now," he answered heavily. He was dirty and he looked tired. There were burn-marks on his uniform. She hadn't been the only one fighting, she realised.

She nodded, her own grin fading. "Yes, I suppose so," she replied. "Lieutenant, do you have transport? I need to get back to Japan as quickly as possible."

He rubbed grime from his forehead uneasily. "Well, not exactly, Ma'am," he answered. "Actually, that's sort of the problem."

Then he showed her why.

The vehicles were flying by themselves. They floated to and fro through the streets of Singaraja, moving with a silent, eerie precision. There were no people at the controls; as far as she could see, all of them were completely empty.

"That isn't possible," she whispered. "The safety interlocks should—"

"That's not all," the lieutenant replied, equally softly. "Watch this." He picked up a pebble and tossed it toward one of the flyers. His aim was good; but as the stone came within a few centimetres of its target, there was a sudden, brilliant flash of light. Jupiter heard a splinter fly past her ear, and there was a sharp _crack_ from somewhere far behind.

"Some of my techs think it's an energy spike from the liftor field," the Lieutenant said grimly. "It's all gibberish to me. But if anybody tries to touch those things, they get hurt." He shrugged, making a disgusted face. Then, eyeing her slyly, he added, "Unless you can—?"

Jupiter echoed his head-shake, grinning mirthlessly. Blow one up, probably. Disarm it? Nuh-uh. Her talents didn't run in those directions.

She turned her attention back to the flyers. It was an unnerving sight. She could not help thinking that there was a strange, unseen purpose in the way they moved.

"But what are they _doing_?" she muttered.

When Endymion called her a little later, she had to report that she would be delayed in leaving Bali.

- - -

"There aren't any of those things in Crystal Tokyo at all," said Mars urgently.

Venus had been standing at Mercury's side, watching silently as the latter methodically scanned the Queen. At Mars' words, though, she looked up sharply. Mercury glanced up for a moment as well, then returned to her work, the visor over her eyes alive with flickering readouts.

"None?" Venus said, frowning.

"No reports at all. There are millions of those things, all over the world, everywhere I check. But none in Crystal Tokyo."

"Millions of—?" Venus blinked. Then she tapped her communicator. "Sailor Uranus, are you there?" she asked.

"Here," came the reply a moment later. "Minako-chan, you're not going to believe this—"

"You aren't seeing any of those things, right?"

There was a pause. "How did you know?" asked Uranus suspiciously.

"A little bird told me. You and Michiru had better head back in. This isn't going to be fun." Venus deactivated her communicator. Her face was grim.

Mars could see the implications as well. "If there aren't any here, then we have to go out of Crystal Tokyo to fight them. And that leaves the city undefended."

"Especially with Serenity out of action," finished Venus. She glanced at Mercury, who was still at work with her computer, and shook her head. "If that bore doesn't stop this thing…"

Endymion walked in at that moment, his armour clinking faintly. "I got hold of Sailor Jupiter," he announced. "She's run into a problem; she can't come back. At least not right away."

Venus sighed. "Wonderful, let's have the bad news all at once. What's gone wrong _now_?"

He explained quickly, not bothering to mention the identity of the people Jupiter was with. Before, they would have been his business as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Japan. Now, as Jupiter had pointed out, the issue hardly seemed relevant.

Venus swore. "I'd better teleport over, bring her back."

"It might be better to let her stay," he suggested. "She sounded confident enough—said she was with some other people who'd rounded up weapons from somewhere. And she said she wanted to find out what the vehicles are doing. Where they're going."

Venus hesitated for a few seconds. "All right," she said at last. "We need information more than anything else right now. Tell her to call for a pick-up if there's any trouble. We can't to afford to lose any more—" She stopped suddenly, seeing Endymion's face. "Sorry," she muttered.

Mars was more thoughtful. "First people…now vehicles," she murmured. "What next? What else can it control?"

Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she could not place it.

- - -

Artemis sat watching the instrument readouts in the borehead control room. One of Ami's assistants had shown him what everything meant. (The man had been rather nervous, talking to a cat. Even after all this time, Artemis still got that reaction from humans. In other circumstances, it might have been funny.)

The numbers on the monitor ticked by steadily. Everything was going very smoothly.

- - -

"Well?" asked Neptune. "What have you found?"

Mercury flipped her visor back up, rising and stepping back from the Queen. "I can't tell much," she confessed. "The energy extends far beyond the shell that we can see. The whole Throne Room is saturated with the power of the Ginzuishou. Maybe the whole Palace. If it were dark, we'd almost be able to see the air glowing."

Uranus whistled in surprise.

"That, and the sphere itself, is blocking my scans rather effectively," Mercury went on. "I can detect that some kind of struggle is going on in the heart of the crystal. But—" She shook her head slowly, looking worried. "I can't find any trace of what Serenity's fighting _against_. It's as if the energy of the Ginzuishou is all turned against itself, somehow."

"But Serenity said 'I won't let you do it'," Luna pointed out. "That certainly suggests that she could feel somebody else attacking her."

"She's always been attuned to the Ginzuishou," said Mars. "It's not surprising that she'd be able to sense things Ami can't." She tightened her lips. "Maybe we should just get her out of here. The orbital habitats haven't been affected; if we teleport her there, say to the L-22 station—"

Mercury was shaking her head. "There's too much power. The sphere is blocking the attack, but it blocks us, too. She'd have to drop her barrier for us to move her—"

"And we can't even get to her to ask her to do it," finished Uranus sourly. "Damn it…she might as well be sealed in crystal all over again…"

"How sure are you that the shield is hers, and not the Enemy's?" asked Neptune. "And how long can she keep it up, before she drains herself to a dangerous level?"

Mercury sighed. "There _is_ no safe level for this kind of thing," she said. "Oh, it's Serenity doing it, all right. The force pattern is unmistakable. The Ginzuishou has a fractal lattice; it extends into multiple dimensions, on a resolution that may approach the infinite—" She broke off, shaking her head. "No. Never mind that. She won't drain herself, anyway, or not in the way you're thinking. Serenity's linked her own life force to the Ginzuishou. She's pouring everything she has into it. At the same time, though, she shares its resources. She could stay like that for a year, or a thousand years, and not run out of strength. Though what would be left of her once she broke contact would be—"

She shivered suddenly. "And all that power is just barely enough to resist the attack," she added in a low voice. "You can see the struggle in the Ginzuishou's light. Some of the Enemy's influence is breaking through, and all she can do is interpose herself to protect it…"

"Then we'll just have to remove the attacker," stated Venus firmly. "The bore's on its way, and once it arrives this will all be over. Right, Ami-chan?"

Mercury checked the time. "It should reach the anomaly in another half an hour," she said. "Perhaps we should head over to the borehead—"

The ground shook.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Mars, keeping her feet with difficulty. Across the room, several ornaments toppled to the floor with a crash of breaking glass.

Mercury did not answer. She was looking out the window. There was a bright light shining down in the city, ruddy-gold. As she watched, it was hidden by a pillar of smoke.

The windows burst inward as the sound of the explosion reached them.

- - -

A bell chimed softly in the borehead control room. After a second, it sounded again.

Artemis looked around, stretching. "What was that?" he asked idly.

One of Ami's assistants, a tall, gaunt man with a receding hairline, looked puzzled. "I'm not sure," he said. "It sounded like—"

The bell chimed.

Another assistant checked an indicator light, which had begun to flash steadily. "That can't be right," she muttered.

"The proximity alarm?" said the first man. "Don't be silly. That would mean the bore's about to arrive back at the surface." Frowning, he checked the other readouts. They indicated that the bore was operating normally, still on its way down. He flipped a switch below the proximity indicator, to no avail. He began to flick it on and off, the frown growing. "Some kind of malfunction," he grumbled.

The alarm rang.

Artemis stared at the display in front of him. All the readings were normal—perfectly normal. But the bell…His fur was all standing on end. He added several and several together and got—

Devastation.

"We've got to get out of here," he said.

The woman stared at him. "What—?" she began.

"It's the bore!" Artemis shouted. "It's been taken over! It's going to arrive here any moment now, with the flame still going, and it's not going to stop when it gets to that bay down there!"

The two of them simply stood there, open-mouthed. The man's adam's apple bobbed up and down convulsively.

Artemis looked him firmly in the eye and said, very quietly, "If we don't get out now, we are going to die."

They began to move. Slowly, oh, far too slowly, but they began to move at last. He bit back an incredulous oath when he saw what they were doing. The man stepped to the door and hovered in it uncertainly, looking back at the controls. The woman…sat at her console, and began to check the readings one last time.

Artemis ran. Hating himself, he left them to their fate and ran. He could wait no longer; he was probably too late already. He wanted to curse their stupidity; he wanted to curse himself for abandoning them. Instead he simply ran, and hoped that he would still be alive tomorrow to feel guilty.

He went what he hoped was a safe distance, then paused and looked back. There was a faint noise coming from somewhere, just at the limit of hearing but steadily growing. The ground was beginning to tremble under his paws. Back in the doorway, he could see the two of them, coming out of the doorway at last. They were running, but too slowly. Far, far too slowly.

The trembling was still growing. Suddenly terrified, he turned and began to run again, with a speed born of desperation.

The bore site became a column of fire. The blast caught him and flung him head-first into a wall and he knew no more.

- - -

Eventually, the city's emergency services got the fires under control. The Senshi helped out as best they could. Quite a few people in the area around the explosion had survived, trapped in the ruins.

Uranus was the one to find Artemis. She carried him to the hospital herself, holding the limp body tenderly in her arms. The doctors were startled at their new charge, but did their best. Mercury arrived a little later to lend her considerable experience. He was badly hurt, but would survive.

By eleven o'clock that night, the situation was enough under control for Venus to be able to check out the bore site itself. It was buried in a vast pile of wreckage. She gave the order to start clearing it away, but she doubted that it would do any good. If the bore had returned to the surface with its flame running, the borehole would be melted shut. The anomaly was inaccessible.

So ended the first day.

- - -

**Interlude**

Crystal Tokyo was a city under siege.

By dawn on the day after Usagi's death, it was already clear that the glass creatures were on the move. None of the Senshi were really surprised to hear that they were headed straight for Crystal Tokyo.

At first there were only a few of them. The crystites—a newscaster in the United States had dubbed them that, and unfortunately the name had stuck—travelled slowly, and not many of them had been in the vicinity of the city to start with. But hour by hour, more arrived. They were tireless, and unrelenting.

The Senshi destroyed the first of them to arrive with ease. On their own, they were not much of a challenge. Their numbers increased steadily, however; and they kept coming from all directions. Gradually, the pressure increased, and some of them began to slip through the gaps.

Long ago, after the Nemesis Invasion, a comprehensive defence system had been built to protect Crystal Tokyo; but in the centuries since then, the city had spread far beyond them. Now, the perimeter of Crystal Tokyo was far too large for five Senshi and one Prince to protect. There was a near-disaster, with more than fifty people killed, when the crystites began to cross Tokyo Bay. The water did not seem to affect them; they simply walked across the seabed.

The Palace Guard was mobilised almost immediately: the first time they had been issued with live weapons, other than in training, for years. They were primarily an exhibition unit—Serenity had little use for soldiers—but they were the only armed force the city had, or, in quieter times, needed. Their casualties were high to begin with, but the survivors learned fast.

Ordinary weapons did not have much effect on the crystites. Most energy weapons were almost useless. Ami experimented briefly with ultrasonic attacks; but while the crystites were slowed briefly, they were otherwise unaffected. Artillery could destroy them. So could concentrated fire with high-impact, armour-piercing rounds, if kept up for long enough; but the crystites could move fast enough that it was difficult to keep them targeted for long enough. Landmines also met with some limited success, but a heavy charge was needed do enough damage. The city's supply of ammunition, limited to begin with, began to fall with alarming speed.

Venus tried to bring in more supplies; but the first time they sent out a flyer to bring in a cache of ammunition, it fell under the Enemy's control as soon as it passed beyond the limits of Serenity's power. The pilot was killed instantly. Mars, Uranus and Neptune, working together, did manage to teleport the supplies in; but the effort exhausted them, and as a long-term solution it was clearly useless.

In any case, they were not the only ones who needed the ammunition.

Only the crystites in the surrounding regions were heading for Crystal Tokyo. Elsewhere, they moved around on their own mysterious errands—as incomprehensible and unpredictable as the vehicles, all over the world, that now moved according to the Enemy's will. The crystites generally ignored surviving humans, as long as they were alone. Groups of three or more people were almost always attacked. So was anybody who was seen carrying anything—even something as innocent as a piece of paper.

Resistance groups were springing up all over the world, with gratifying speed. Mars organised a communications centre to try and coordinate them, offering advice and spreading word on any tactics that worked against the crystites.

Not many tactics did work; and they never worked twice. The enemy learned fast.

The Senshi teleported all around the world, meeting resistance leaders and helping where they could. Some heartening victories were won. But always, after a defeat, more crystites simply began to move in from other areas until the loss had been made up.

Furthermore, Mars began to receive reports that the Enemy was controlling more than just vehicles. All kinds of machinery were working by themselves. The reports suggested that the crystites and the machines were working together to build something, but details were maddeningly vague. Spy cameras failed to operate, and anyone who physically approached the building sites was killed. Mercury, Mars and Endymion teleported to a site and tried to break in, so that Mercury could examine what was happening; but the mission was a disastrous failure. They had expected a strong defence, but, faced with a dual assault from both the crystites and the machinery, they were lucky to escape with their lives.

The subversion of the machines caused a new problem. The world had mostly been at peace for many years, and there were few arms, and little ammunition, anywhere. Now, there was no way of making more. The initial victories won by the rebels were soon reversed, and no more followed.

After the debacle when the crystites crossed Tokyo Bay, Venus tried to contact Sailor Jupiter again. There was no reply. She teleported over to Bali immediately, and found traces of a major battle, and an area littered with bodies and the remains of destroyed crystites. Of Jupiter herself there was no sign.

- - -

The defence of Crystal Tokyo was holding—barely. When the crystite attacks began to cause heavy casualties, the Inner Senshi came together and prepared to raise the force shield that they had used during the Nemesis invasion. To their shock, they could not do it. The shield refused to form at all.

Instead, they had to resort to more physical defences. A wall around the city was under construction, and growing with gratifying speed. A team of engineers had designed a new weapon: a railgun that accelerated and fired needle-sized metal slivers at hundreds of kilometres a second. A direct hit would destroy a crystite; but the weapons were difficult to build and too big to be carried, and the rate of fire was poor. Still, they helped stem the tide for now.

The borehole, as Venus had feared, was sealed shut. She put a crew to work carving it open again, but activity came to a halt when the workmen began to suffer strange injuries. Some of them looked exactly like the organic fusing that had struck down the worker in the tunnel. The men would have worked on anyway—they knew how much was at stake—but Venus pulled them off and grimly set them to work on a more direct route: a vertical tunnel, directly over the location of the anomaly. As Mercury pointed out, going straight down meant they would only have to dig a third as far. Before long hundreds of people were at work over a steadily-deepening pit.

Sailor Mercury herself examined the railgun design and made a few suggestions, and supervised the progress of the new excavation; but her main work was elsewhere. She was helping defend the city, of course, fighting with the other Senshi. Most of her time, though, was spent on two projects: trying to find a way to block the Enemy's control of the crystites and the machines, and trying to find a way to shield Serenity and the Ginzuishou.

Nothing seemed to work. She developed batteries of new devices intended to scan through the interference caused by the Ginzuishou's power. At one time, the entire Throne Room was filled with banks of equipment. But as before, she could not even detect the Enemy's attack taking place, let alone find any way to block it. She did eventually announce that the aura of power that extended out from Serenity's bubble spread far beyond the palace, and was what protected the city from the Enemy's control—and what prevented the Senshi from raising their own force shield.

They were left with little choice but to fight. So many other possibilities had already failed. They could not teleport the Queen away. Physically transporting her was equally impossible; the bubble around the queen was utterly immovable. For a time, they had hopes of evacuating the city; but when a lander from one of the orbital habitats did try to reach Crystal Tokyo, it fell under the Enemy's influence while still beyond the atmosphere, and was destroyed during reentry. The Senshi themselves could have left, but that was not an option that any of them were prepared to consider.

In spite of Mercury's warnings, Venus finally gave in to the others' pleas and allowed them to try to teleport down to the anomaly. Mercury supplied coordinates, and insisted on joining the attempt. It was a disastrous failure. They hit some kind of barrier, deep underground, with blinding force, and rebounded in horrible pain. Venus and Uranus, struggling to stay conscious, managed to materialise the others back on the surface; but the others were senseless for hours. The new tunnel remained their best chance of reaching the Enemy.

There was nowhere to turn to for help. With Pluto gone, sending to the past—or even the future—was impossible. Seeking aid from outside the solar system was equally futile; Kinmoku, like many other worlds with Senshi defenders, had been devastated in the new wars that racked the galaxy after Galaxia began to restore the damage she had done. Endymion tried to reach Elysion, but found it shielded by the same kind of barrier that protected the anomaly. He materialised back in the palace throne room, dazed and wracked with pain. Crystal Tokyo was on its own.

After several unsuccessful tries, Uranus and Neptune managed to capture a crystite alive. As they brought it into the city, though, it exploded violently. Other crystites had entered Crystal Tokyo before, during any number of attacks, so they were forced to conclude that the enemy had destroyed it deliberately. They were willing to try again, but Venus forbade any further attempts, for the time being.

Serenity herself continued her own unending battle. She floated, untouchable, in the centre of her force bubble, the Ginzuishou held to her heart. Her eyes were closed again. Sometimes the flickering in the Ginzuishou's depths seemed to slow and fade, as if the Enemy were abandoning the attack, or turning its attention to other things. At those times they sometimes saw the Queen's eyelids flicker, as if she were close to waking up. The attack always resumed after a short time, though; and the Queen fought on: grimly, silently and endlessly.

Mars wanted them all to link with her, to join their strength to hers as they had done before. When they tried it, they found that they could not penetrate her shell. To let them in to join with her, she would have had to lower her barrier; but doing so would let the Enemy in too, and that would be the end of it…

Still, the defence continued. Every entrance to the city was blocked off now, and there was no shortage of volunteers to protect the walls. Uranus and Neptune spent endless hours training new recruits. The railguns were an important help, too. The Senshi sent the plans out all over the world, and even managed to teleport a few to resistance groups outside the city, but the guns were too big to deliver in quantity, and Crystal Tokyo was the only place left that had the machinery to make them.

Beyond the defence perimeter, the crystites gathered.

- - -

**7 May, 3478**

Mars looked up when Michiru came in to relieve her, and let her transformation lapse with a sigh. Her eyes were red from lack of sleep.

"Bad night?" Michiru asked.

"Bad enough," Rei said wearily. She stifled a yawn.

Michiru did not press the question. She knew how it would have been. Floodlights lit up the ground all around the barricades, so that the crystites could not approach under cover of darkness. Volunteers kept a ceaseless lookout. Often they had only a split second to warn of an attack; the crystites' whirling clouds of razor-sharp shards were deadly from a considerable distance. Lookout was a high-risk position. There were teams working around the clock to get every approach monitored electronically, but it would be another week before they were finished.

When an assault came, the action would be savage and furious. The roar of the railguns opening fire. The sharp cracks of more conventional gunfire, and the thunder of artillery. And, where the action was thickest—always, where the danger was greatest—the cries of the Senshi launching their attacks.

Perhaps the worst of it was a fact that they never discussed, but which none of them could forget: that every crystite they destroyed was another innocent human life lost. It could not be helped, they had no real choice; but still, in her heart Rei suspected that if Serenity were awake, she would find a way to save them. Sometimes Rei dreamed of an endless sea of faces, all staring at her reproachfully. Then she would get up and go and fight some more.

All night, and all day. But for now, Mars' watch was over; now, Mars could go back to being Rei, and try to get a few hours sleep. In her place, Michiru would become Sailor Neptune and take her own turn under the grindstone.

(They had to detransform, to get any sleep at all. It was hard to relax in Senshi form during a crisis; some kind of instinct, perhaps. And lately, they'd had nothing _but_ crisis.)

"Bad enough," Rei repeated. She glanced up at Michiru. "Sato in the comms centre says they've lost contact with another six resistance groups."

That did provoke a wince. Going out of contact could mean a lot of things, but usually it only meant one.

Michiru nodded slowly, her lips tight. "Anything new happen?" she asked.

Rei shrugged. "Nothing important." The corner of her mouth quirked suddenly. "There was a message from L-117. They say they've solved all our problems. They've designed an orbital laser cannon. They want Ami to check it over."

Michiru snorted in exasperation. "How many crystites at a time do they think they can hit? How accurately do they think they can _aim_ it?"

"Oh, it's even better than that. I had a look at the specifications myself. They'd left out the power consumption figures." Michiru began to grin, and Rei smirked back. "Right. It'd take more power crystals than the whole city of Crystal Tokyo uses."

Michiru laughed. It was black humour—joking about flaws in a plan that was supposed to save them all—but lately, black humour was all they had. "At least they're trying," she said.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Rei leaned back. "If they could build a laser cannon that easily, they might as well forget shooting monsters and use it to help us drill that damned pit."

"Wouldn't that be convenient?" Michiru gestured toward the monitoring station, and Rei stood up obediently, letting her sit down. "I checked on the way in," she added. "They're down to three hundred metres."

Rei nodded. "Not bad," she said. "All things considered." She started toward the door, stretching. "I've got to get some sleep."

"Good luck," Michiru said ironically.

Rei made a rude gesture and opened the door—and the alarm sounded, and she was back at the monitors, her eyes wide open, in a heartbeat. "Where?" she rapped. "How many?" Unspoken was the question, _Do you need me to stay?_

Michiru was already tapping up the display. "North-east," she said. "Hibari district." She bit off a curse. "Two or three hundred of them."

"Let's go." Rei was out the door, running. Michiru followed her an instant later.

- - -

They transformed wordlessly on the way out to the flyer. They could have teleported to the attack point, perhaps; but neither had the strength to spare. (A full, unbroken night's sleep was almost a forgotten dream.) They would need all their energy for fighting.

As their flyer neared the wall, they were joined by Mercury, in a flyer of her own. Her face was drawn and weary, but she looked alert. Good. They could use the help.

The guns had already opened fire. There were three railguns covering this direction: more than a lot of the perimeter had. They made an eerie humming sound as the accelerators charged, followed by an earsplitting _crack_ when they launched. The shots moved so fast that they were ignited by friction; they looked like streaks of white flame. Shots that missed did not come down again.

Mars jumped out of the flyer before it had stopped moving. The other two followed her an instant later. The three of them leaped up to the top of the wall, keeping low to avoid the razor-sharp return fire.

They risked a quick look out over the battlefield. The crystites were approaching the defence perimeter in a wedge formation: not too tightly packed, so that a single shot could take out more than one at a time, but closely enough that those further back had reasonable cover. Their tactics were slowly improving.

The guns were not having much effect; crystites were falling, but slowly. The three Senshi exchanged glances. "Freeze and shatter?" suggested Mars. The other two nodded.

It was a fairly basic move. Neptune produced water and Mercury froze it, chilling the crystites. Then Mars used her flame, and the sudden temperature difference shattered them. An elementary combination, but one that worked well from a distance, and one that could, ideally, hit a lot of the enemy at once.

But they couldn't keep it up forever; that kind of wide-area attack took a lot of energy from all of them, and they were tired to begin with…

Before long, as always, they were down off the wall, and fighting up close. Up close and dirty, with no time to think or plan, only react; dodge and weave and strike, and know that the others were doing the same. Alone, against these odds, they would have died quickly; but working together, protecting each other's backs, they could fight off vastly superior numbers—as long as they stayed close together. At this range, too, they could use their older, lower-powered attacks to devastating effect.

So they fought. Neptune was poetry in motion, as always; she moved with cool poise and grace, her every action calculated and precise, seemingly inexhaustible. Mercury was equally precise, her attacks mathematically exact; but she fought with a passion that would have surprised someone who knew her only for her scientific and academic work. And Mars—Mars burned. Always, she burned; her whole life was fire, aflame to give warmth and light and love to those she loved—and a flame to burn those who would destroy them. Spirit of fire, a spirit on fire…

The enemy fell before them.

At last, after a time that could have been minutes or hours, they drew to a halt, chests heaving, gasping for breath—victorious once again. A shot from a railgun took out the last crystite on the battlefield, and Neptune raised a hand to salute the marksman.

They all heard the beeping, as the silence fell.

It took a moment to sink in. It was the emergency alarm, coming from all three communicators. The three exchanged horrified glances. How long had it been sounding, unheard?

Mercury answered for all of them. It was Diana calling, and she sounded frantic.

"Oh, thank goodness," she burst out, almost gabbling. "You've got to hurry! It's Venus and Uranus and the King—there's a big attack—hundreds of crystites, maybe thousands—and Venus sent out a distress call and you know she doesn't do that unless it's real trouble and she said they couldn't handle it alone and that was nearly _half an hour_ ago—"

"Where?" demanded Mercury. Her face was pale.

The south side of the city, Diana told them. Almost directly opposite to where they were now.

"They tricked us," Mars said incredulously. "All of this—it was just a diversion while they—"

"Never mind that _now_!" Neptune roared at her, her composure failing her for once. "Come _on_!"

They scrambled to the flyers and took off. They flew with breakneck speed, fast enough that in an open cockpit it was hard to breathe…and every moment of the trip thundered in Mars' pulse like the beating of a funereal drum.

Half an hour late.

It took nearly four minutes to cross the city. The roar of the wind in their ears was deafening—but over it, clearer and clearer, they could hear the rumble of the guns. As they approached the southern wall, they saw the size of the enemy force.

If anything, Diana had underestimated it. There were nearly five thousand crystites massed on the south side of the city, spread out over a wide front. They were being bombarded ceaselessly, and more fell every minute—but still they came onward. They glittered in the sunlight, eerily beautiful. They were clearly unstoppable.

Venus, Uranus and Endymion were doing their best.

The sparks and flashes of power were unmistakable. They were out there, caught in the centre of the densest cluster of the enemy—of course. They looked battered—from this distance it was hard to make out more than that—but they were still on their feet.

Mars put the flyer into a long, shallow curve over the battlefield, looking for a clear space to land. For a moment they passed over the three down on the ground, and she got a quick, confused glimpse of the struggle. Venus and Uranus were fighting back-to-back; Venus seemed to be letting off Crescent Beams almost ceaselessly, shattering any crystite that came near, while Uranus was wielding the Space Sword, firing bolts of power and using it as a weapon at the same time. Endymion had his own sword drawn; he was wearing full armour, but he bounded and leaped about with an easy athletic grace, making it look effortless—and everywhere he went, the black sword cut a swath through the enemy.

The flyer rocked suddenly, and Mars glanced around in time to see Neptune jump out. She blinked, startled. Well, that was one way to join the battle in a hurry, she supposed.

Then she looked down at the controls, thought for a moment, and aimed the flyer at a dense cluster of the enemy. A second later she followed Neptune over the side.

She hit the ground with bone-shaking force, rolling over and over. Moments later, as she climbed shakily to her feet, she heard the sudden explosion as the flyer crashed, followed an instant later by a second explosion. Mercury must have followed her example. She hoped they had done a lot of damage.

She looked around quickly (and dodged a pair of crystites that were aiming hammer-blows at her), trying to get her bearings. A flash of light from some way off caught her eye. She nodded to herself, took a quick breath, and ran.

A group of crystites were in her way. The faces in the middle of their chests—slack-jawed, eyes closed as always—made excellent targets. She destroyed them all with a Burning Mandala without breaking stride. Crystal fragments stung her arms and legs as she ran. She barely noticed.

A shout came from just in front of her: "CRESCENT BEAM SHOWER!" It was followed by a shattering sound. Mars leaped over a pair of crystites, dodging their eight-armed swipe at her as she passed, and landed in a little clearing in the middle of the battlefield.

"Glad you could make it," said Venus casually.

She was a mess. She was bleeding freely from cuts all over her body; half her hair was gone—it looked as if it had been burned somehow—and the ginger way she was standing suggested that she had some broken ribs. But she was surrounded by piles of destroyed enemies; the light in her eye was undimmed, and that cocky, indomitable grin was firmly in place.

Mars wasn't in the mood for snappy comebacks. "There's too many of them," she said roughly. "You've got to pull back."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Venus admitted. She glanced around and shot something over Mars' shoulder. "But it was a little difficult to make any headway. Now that you're here…"

There was a sudden blur of motion from their left, and Mercury joined them. "We have a problem," she said tersely. "There's a big cluster of the enemy, moving up fast. I don't think we can hold them."

Venus swore. "All right," she said. "Let's get out of here. What happened to Uranus—?"

Endymion landed next to them. He was breathing hard, his armour was pitted with nicks and gouges, and there was a bloody gash on his forehead, but he looked otherwise unharmed. "She's a little way off that way," he said, pointing. "Neptune's with her."

"Okay." Venus glanced around quickly. "Mercury, go help them," she ordered. Mercury have a quick nod, and sped off. Venus sighed. "Mars, Endymion," she said. "Let's go…"

They began a fighting retreat. It was slow going. The crystites were generally spread quite thinly, but wherever the Senshi went, the enemy converged on them. They had to fight almost every step of the way.

A Flame Sniper might have cleared a path for them, Mars thought grimly. But she didn't have the energy left; she had been on the go for so long already that Fire Souls were almost all she could still do. Venus was in a similar state; her Crescent Beams were still deadly, but she wasn't trying anything more. Endymion was the only one of them who was still really in good fighting condition; but even he had run out of roses, and his Smoking Bomber attacks were becoming an obvious effort.

Still, this time they were headed in the same direction as the crystites. That helped a lot. Slowly, painfully, they worked their way through. Another few minutes, and they would reach the walls.

Then, as they came to the top of a low hill, Mars heard Venus curse.

She looked back quickly. From this height she could see some distance—to where Mercury, Uranus and Neptune were fighting. They were cut off: surrounded by fifty or sixty of the enemy, clustered so thickly around them that they could not work their way free. And the larger group that Mercury had warned them of was approaching fast.

Mars made a quick decision. Endymion was really best at close combat. Venus was almost spent. Mars was, too; but she wasn't as badly hurt as Venus was.

"Take care of her, Mamoru," she said quietly, and somehow dredged up the energy to run again. She heard the King shout after her, but ignored him.

The going was a little easier now. They had almost made their way to the front line; the numbers were fewer here, and she could actually get up a little speed. She conserved her powers, ducking and leaping rather than fighting. Gradually she worked her way free—and then arced around and plunged back into the enemy once more.

Before long she had to stop. There were just too many crystites; they changed direction and made for her as she approached, and she couldn't get through. She tried to zig-zag, ducking and weaving around them, but it didn't help much.

Still, she could see the sparks and flashes of power, not too far ahead. She simply had to hope that she was close enough for it to work…

"Mercury! Uranus! Neptune!" she shouted. "Get ready! When I say go!"

She heard an answering shout. She dodged back, then forward past one more pair of crystites. A gap opened up in front of her for a moment. She took a deep breath, drew in everything she had left, and let it all out at once.

"FIRE SOUL BIRD!"

She heard them launch their own attacks in reply.

"MERCURY AQUA RHAPSODY!"  
"ASTRAL THUNDER!"  
"TYPHOON SHOCK!"

The quadruple assault did it: opened a hole in the wall. She saw Mercury, followed by Neptune and Uranus, break through. They began to run toward her.

At the same time, she felt her Senshi transformation ebb and vanish. She turned and ran ahead of the other three. She was drained dry; there was nothing left, she could not have transformed again if her life depended on it. But she could still run, and they were close to the walls; close enough that nothing could stop them. They were all going to get out of this, once again; they were home free—

She looked back, and saw it all start to go wrong.

That big body of crystites was still moving up fast, and the others, strangely, seemed to be making way for it. A group of them surged in from the side, casting their razor-whirlwind attacks.

A hail of crystal shards caught Uranus in the side.

She shrieked in agony. A cloud of fine red mist seemed to hang in the air. The attack knocked her sprawling, limp and bloody, and instantly the crystites rounded on her.

Neptune cried out in horror and fear, and turned back to help. She pulled out the Aqua Mirror and started to throw her Typhoon Shock attack again; but another cluster of the enemy surged up and swept her away before she could complete it.

Mercury whirled about and launched her Shabon Spray Freezing. It hit the crystites around Neptune and turned them into splinters. Neptune leaped away from them and looked around desperately for Uranus…

Too late. The crystites were all around Uranus, dozens of them. Rei caught one quick glimpse of her as they converged on her, saw her arm reach out between two of their bodies as she struggled desperately to break free. Then it was jerked back suddenly. They heard Uranus cry out in pain once more. More crystites continued to gather around her, and all sight of her was lost.

Neptune moaned in disbelief, in agony herself.

There was a sudden flash from within the mill of crystites. A blaze of power. Rei never learned what final attack Uranus found in her ultimate crisis; but it blew the enemy away from her as if a bomb had gone off in their midst.

Sailor Uranus leaped out from the horde of crystites. They began to close in on her once more, but she moved too quickly; she escaped their grasp and began to run.

She looked terrible. She was covered in blood. Her uniform was torn away all up one side; there was a deep open wound beneath her ribs, and something long and ropy-looking was dangling out of it. But she was running, running, and the way ahead of her was clear—

She almost made it. She almost almost almost made it.

Rei saw what happened clearly. It seemed to take place slowly, in complete silence. Far behind, one of the crystites shuddered, and the face on its chest suddenly came alive. Its eyes flicked open. They burned with a pale blue light. Its mouth twisted into a hungry grin.

It bent down, picked up a stone, and threw. The missile caught Sailor Uranus squarely in the small of her back; it lifted her off her feet and sent her tumbling, spinning, face-first to the ground. Before she could move again, the enemy were upon her.

They swarmed over her like ants. They closed around her. Their arms rose and fell. The fists were stained with red.

Rei caught hold of Neptune's arm, holding her back. Neptune jerked free effortlessly, stumbled forward. She was making a thin whining noise, a high keening that sounded like a baby crying. Her face was chalk-white; her eyes were enormous.

Rei took her arm again, gently. She did not try to break free this time. She did not seem to have any strength left in her at all. She only stared—stared at what was happening before her, what was being done. A hundred metres away; a lifetime away.

The crystites finished their work. The group split apart, leaving something huddled and broken where they had been. It did not look even faintly human any more.

Neptune threw her head back and screamed. Her voice was full of shattered glass.

The crystites began to advance once more.

Someone else appeared at Rei's side. Mercury. Rei gave her a quick look and said, "We've got to get her away from here."

Mercury did not look much better than Neptune; but she nodded in understanding. They each took one of Neptune's arms and began to lead her back. She came docilely at first, as if that scream had taken up all the defiance left in her. Then she began to struggle.

"No," she whispered. Then, louder: "We…we can't just give up!" She looked back over her shoulder, straining, unable to escape their grasp. "We can't just leave her there!" she wailed. "We can't!"

Rei and Mercury glanced at each other once more, and then back behind them. There were more than fifty crystites coming up behind them, moving fast. They tried to hurry Neptune along a little faster.

She stumbled along between them, still trying to break free. "We can't leave her," she sobbed. "Please…please, we have to go back…please…"

Perhaps somebody heard her.

A thunderbolt crackled over their heads.

It was followed moments later by a second, and a third. They slammed into the crystites in quick succession, blowing them apart as if they were made of tissue paper.

Rei lifted her eyes, and saw who was standing just ahead of them. Sailor Venus: tired, hurt, but with the light of battle in her eye. King Endymion: battered, weary, but grim-faced and ready for action. And between them, impossibly, smouldering with power and very much alive, was Sailor Jupiter.

Mercury hesitated, staring at them. "Rei…" she said. But Rei was already waving her on. Mercury nodded; then, deliberately, she released Neptune's arm, and went to join the three.

"Come on, Michiru-chan," Rei said gently. "Come with me. They'll take care of Haruka now. I promise."

She led Neptune back to the wall, ignoring the sound of battle behind her. Inside the gates, she knocked on the door of the first house she came to and asked for a bed. The people there recognised her, and let her in. She made Neptune detransform and put her to bed tenderly, and held her hand until she fell asleep.

Then she went back to the wall and ordered the defenders to give her a gun.

All along the southern wall of the city, the artillery were firing without pause. The crystites died hard, but they did die. Out on the battlefield, three Senshi and a King fought their own kind of war; and wherever they went the enemy fell.

Somehow, the tide had turned. Perhaps the unexpected return of Sailor Jupiter had revitalised the defenders. Perhaps the true Enemy, the controlling intelligence, had given up, or lost interest. But the crystites appeared less driven; their actions were more random, and they no longer seemed to fight as hard. One by one, they fell.

An hour before sundown, the gates opened and the Senshi re-entered the city. Sailor Jupiter was at their head, carrying a limp, wrapped bundle in her arms. The defenders at the wall bowed their heads as she passed.

- - -

**8 May, 3478**

After the battle came the inquisition, apparently.

"So what happened?" asked Venus flatly. "Why did you vanish like that?" There were bags under her eyes; she had been in Senshi form all night, taking advantage of the accelerated healing that offered, and it didn't look like she'd had much sleep.

Neither had Makoto, though for a different reason. As she'd lain in bed, the image of Haruka's broken body had returned to her, again and again. _We've lost three, now,_ she kept thinking. _Four, if you count Pluto. Five, if you count the Queen. If this goes on…_

_No. The pit they're digging, down to the Enemy, that'll work. We'll be able to attack then. We'll win then. Of course we will…_

With difficulty, she brought her attention back to Venus, who was waiting impatiently for an answer.

"I didn't have any choice," she answered. "They attacked the group I was with. Everyone—" She paused, took a deep breath. She'd grown to like the little band of soldiers she'd been working with in Bali. "Everyone except me was killed," she went on in a level tone, "and I wasn't in great shape myself. And my communicator was damaged. I couldn't call for help.

"Freak chance," she added at Venus' inquiring look. "They—the crystites—got a lucky shot. A splinter hit my communicator. I brought it back; maybe Ami can repair it." She shrugged. "Anyway, I had to keep moving after that. Everywhere I went, they seemed to home in on me. I don't know if you've noticed that; they can always tell where we are…"

Venus nodded. "Whenever we go out to fight, they head straight for us. If it weren't for that, Haruka—" She broke off suddenly.

"Yeah." Makoto was silent for a moment. "How's Michiru?"

"How do you expect?" Venus snarled. "She's…bad. It's just lucky for us that they used up all their forces in the area on that attack. We'll have a bit of a breathing-space before they're back."

"There'll be more of them next time. You know that."

"Yes." Venus shrugged. "But there are more factories getting tooled-up for making guns, too. We'll be better-armed by the time they arrive."

"Will it be enough?"

"It'll just have to be, won't it?"

A silence fell. Makoto poured herself another cup of tea—Western tea; it was in short supply now but she loved it—and added a large helping of sugar.

"So why didn't you call?" demanded Venus suddenly. "Okay, your communicator was busted. But you could have found an ordinary radio. Hell, even the telephones are still working in some places."

"But if I'd—" Makoto began. Then she stopped, staring at Venus. "You don't know," she said. "Oh, God. You don't know—"

"What?" Venus' voice was impatient.

"I _told_ you the Enemy can control machines. Flyers, factory assemblers, anything. I found out too late, but surely one of the other resistance groups must have—" She saw Venus' expression. "It's not just those," she went on hastily. "It's _anything_. Any machine. Including radios. And telephones."

Venus frowned for an instant, not understanding. Then her eyes widened. "Wait a minute. You're saying—"

"I mean they can hear anything you broadcast! Scramblers, encryption, they don't make any difference. If I'd called you and told you where to come to find me, there would have been crystites waiting for you when you arrived."

Makoto sighed. "We might have been able to work out a way around it, but I never dreamed how bad things were getting here. I just thought it was safest to make my own way home. It took me a while, but I managed to find a sailboat." She smiled mirthlessly. "One with no automatic systems. Everything manual."

Venus had something else on her mind. "But—but Rei's gone and set up a big communications centre to link all the resistance groups. You mean that—"

Makoto sat for a moment, taking in the implications. "Then the Enemy knows all about them," she confirmed grimly. "Where they are. Even what they're planning, if they've talked about that on the air…"

"And we get reports from the orbital habitats about the crystites' movements…" Venus closed her eyes, wincing as if in real pain. "But why?" she demanded. "If the Enemy knows where all the groups are, why haven't they been destroyed yet? Why are they just being picked off a few at a time?"

"Who knows?" Makoto made a face as a new thought occurred to her. "Maybe…maybe the Enemy isn't interested. Maybe, unless they get inconvenient, it thinks they just aren't worth the bother."

They exchanged worried looks.

- - -

**15 May, 3478**

"All right," said Ami briskly. "I've made some progress, at least. I think I've worked out how the Enemy controls machinery—and the crystites too, for that matter."

They were all gathered together, at her request, in a private room in the Palace. It was a dull, murky day outside, and there had been no new attacks for several hours, so everybody was present—even Michiru, who sat at the back and did not speak.

"Have you found any way to block it?" asked Rei eagerly.

Ami shook her head. "No. Actually, what I've found may make things worse—if that's possible. But still…"

"Anything we can learn about the Enemy may help," said Endymion. "Right?"

"Let's hope so." Ami tapped at her computer for a moment, and a display flashed up on a wall-screen behind her. "I've been looking for common factors in the people who became crystites," she explained. "I built a list of names from refugees' reports, and I've created a database of personal and medical histories."

The display showed a slowly-scrolling list of details: names, birth- places, ages, occupations, blood-types and other medical details. "I was able to eliminate most environmental factors almost immediately," she said. "They were pretty unlikely anyway; the changes were just too widespread. Then I started to weed out the medical details. Before long, I found I'd eliminated everything. There weren't any consistent common factors at all.

"But then I noticed something rather odd…"

Rei had been watching the list as it scrolled up the display. "They don't all have the same blood type or anything," she murmured. Then she sat up. "Wait a minute, I see it, they all have—no, wait, there's one who doesn't…"

Unexpectedly, Ami was smiling. "What?" she asked. "What did you think you saw?"

Rei shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said. "It wouldn't make any sense anyway." Ami prompted her again, wordlessly, and she sighed. "I thought for a moment they all had bad eyes, all right? But they don't. Look—there's another one with perfect vision…"

"Nevertheless, about eighty percent do have poor eyesight," said Ami calmly. "That was what I noticed, too. It's not a universal common factor—but it is strange, you must admit."

"Eyes?" demanded Michiru. "_Eyes?_ Is that your miracle solution? Short-sighted people become crystites? That's the most ridiculous—"

"Michiru," said Minako sharply. She fell silent. "Let her finish," Minako added in a softer tone.

Michiru sank back into her seat. There was a look of sour contempt on her face that had been there all too often since Haruka's death. She had become rough, abrasive and short-tempered; there was not one of them who had not felt the lash of her tongue. It was hard to accept, but the others bore it patiently. They could see that most of her anger was directed at herself. Haruka had died and she had not; she blamed herself for failing to protect her lover, and they could not convince her that she was wrong.

She had insisted on returning to duty even before the crystite attacks resumed. She renewed the defence training courses that she and Haruka had been running; but after only two days Venus had to order her to stop, after too many reports of "accidents." Her anger and her loss drove her to push the recruits too hard; broken bones and other injuries became common for new recruits who could not do what she demanded of them. After that, the only thing left for her was fighting the enemy, which she did with a fury and a viciousness that sometimes frightened the other Senshi. Ami was concerned that she was heading for a breakdown of some kind; but the truth was, on the battlefield her anger was too useful to stop…

Ami cleared her throat self-consciously. "Eyesight," she repeated. "Not all the warped people had bad eyes. But if we consider those that didn't…"

She paused her display, and began to point to entries. "Ichikawa Isako—hard of hearing," she said. "Also Ebina Yugoro and Sanda Harukichi. Terakado Sen had a pacemaker. And here, and here…more hearing defects. This man had lost a foot in an industrial accident and had an artificial replacement. This woman had an artificial larynx. There's a group here with blood-pressure control implants. And this woman…" Ami paused, and blinked. "…Had nothing wrong with her at all," she finished, puzzled. "Wait a minute. She had an cosmetic optical enhancement to give her slitted pupils." She shook her head in wonder.

"So what _is_ the common factor?" asked Makoto, baffled. "None of those have anything to do with bad eyes. Do they?"

"Most forms of myopia or hypermetropia are treated with a simple implant that generates a focusing field just in front of the eyes," Ami pointed out. "They were introduced about three hundred years ago; it's a very simple, common procedure. The implant constantly measures the eyeball's shape and focal length and adjusts the field to compensate. Nobody needs eyeglasses any more…"

"So the common factor is…cybernetic enhancements?" suggested Endymion. "Optical fields…pacemakers…artificial limbs…any kind of implant…"

"Not quite any kind," said Ami quietly. "Any _powered_ implant. The power source, of course, is a crystal cell. Cheap, reliable, and never needs replacing.

"Oh, there were all sorts of variations," she told them, "but I've checked every case, and there are no exceptions. One way or another, they all had some kind of crystal, physically within their bodies."

A silence fell as they took in the implications. After a few seconds, Makoto shuddered. "That's…disgusting."

"Yes, it is," Ami agreed.

"Wait just a minute!" Minako was standing; she seemed agitated. "You're saying that…this Enemy somehow controls crystal? That's how it took over all those people?"

Ami nodded solemnly. "Yes. There may be another factor at work, too—some of the victims had DNA sequences on record, and I think that there may be some kind of genetic propensity as well. But the crystal connection is definite."

"And if it controls crystal, then we know how it's taken control of all those machines as well, don't we?" said Endymion.

"But…but we use crystal power cells for everything!" Minako looked appalled. "Vehicles, lights…everything!"

"Maybe we need to start looking for new alternatives," said Ami.

"If there's time," said Makoto.

- - -

**26 May, 3478**

As Makoto and Luna hurried through the corridors of the Palace, they were interrupted by a small grey figure.

"Yes?" said Luna. "Can it wait? I'm in a bit of a hurry. Makoto and I are supposed to be meeting with the Supply Council."

"I need to talk to you," said Diana. "In private." She hesitated for a moment, then said reluctantly, "I have a problem…"

- - -

**6 June, 3478**

"Ami!" Rei called. She hurried down the corridor toward her fellow Senshi. "I got your message. What's the problem?" she asked as she reached her.

"It's Michiru," said Ami quietly. She was standing at a window, looking out over the city. From this high up in the Palace tower, everything looked almost normal.

"Oh." Rei bit her lip. She had been afraid of this. "What's she been doing now?" she asked at last.

"She's been asking me some very…strange questions." Ami looked upset, Rei realised. Disturbed. Whatever Michiru had said had shaken her. She looked up at Rei and said, "You've seen her the most since Haruka…died. What's she doing? She won't talk to anyone else, usually; when she's not fighting she stays in her rooms all the time, with the privacy barrier up…What is she up to, Rei? What is she doing in there?"

Rei tried to make a joke of it. "Well, maybe the sort of thing most people want privacy for—"

"Rei!"

She gave in. "I'm not quite certain," she replied slowly. "She's spending a lot of time with the Aqua Mirror, I think. She sits staring into it, almost in a trance. For hours on end. I don't think she's sleeping enough—"

"Is she trying to see Haruka, do you think?" asked Ami.

"No. That's the strange part." Rei closed her eyes for a second, thinking. "She's…trying to find something. But not Haruka. She borrowed some texts from me, did you know? Old scrolls; meditation techniques, very esoteric stuff. And other things—invocations. I don't understand some of them myself. But I think she's…trying to use them somehow."

"What for?"

"What did she ask _you_?"

Ami did not try to dodge the question. "She asked me if I thought the Ginzuishou was Serenity's talisman."

"She _what_?" Rei demanded, astonished.

"Yes. Do you see now why I'm worried?"

Rei did not answer immediately. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her I don't know. But I don't think so. The Ginzuishou is a different…order of power from the talismans."

"If anything," Rei said slowly, "the Grail would be…" She trailed off. "I wonder if—"

"It occurred to me," Ami said in a low voice, "that she might be looking for the Space Sword—maybe as an anchor to try and get Haruka back. Or perhaps…Setsuna's staff."

"The Time Gate? I don't think so. She—" Rei hesitated, then said flatly, "She says Setsuna is dead."

Ami was caught by surprise. "She—?"

Rei grimaced. "I'd been starting to think that myself. I mean, you know, Setsuna could be cryptic, aggravating. She _never_ told us everything we needed to know. But…she wouldn't just abandon us when we need her like this, either. She wouldn't—" She stopped, and shook her head. "Michiru said she'd looked for her. But there was no sign. Setsuna was gone."

"But…how?" Ami sounded bewildered.

"The Enemy controls crystal, remember?" Rei said dully. "When it broke free, I think it attacked her through her staff. Pulled her down into that cave…" She shivered. "When they finish that pit, I think we'll find her. Down there."

"You never said anything."

"No. Who needs more demoralisation? But if Michiru is starting to talk—"

"No. It doesn't add up," said Ami. "Why does she need advanced meditation techniques for that? And what's the connection to the Ginzuishou? She can't still be—" She swallowed. "All right. I won't talk to the others about Pluto; you're right. But she must be looking for something else, too. Haruka. Or perhaps some way to break through to the Enemy…"

"Perhaps." Rei's voice was noncommittal.

"Or she might want to try to form a link between the Ginzuishou and the Mirror…" Ami shook her head. "But why won't she _say_?" Ami looked at her sharply. "You think you know, don't you?" she said. "You've been dodging the question all along. What is it? Tell me!"

Rei stirred. "I think," she said carefully, "that she's looking for something different. Something _more_. More power. The ability to fight better…maybe the ability to do a whole lot of things."

Ami frowned, not understanding. "But—"

"I think she's looking for her Eternal transformation."

Ami stood stock-still.

"I think she believes that she can use the Aqua Mirror to trigger it somehow." Rei shook her head. "She tried to use the mirror to reach Haruka's spirit, and couldn't. So she's looking for justifications in other directions now. She still thinks she failed Haruka because she wasn't strong enough…"

"But…" Ami finally found words again. "But she can't…can she? I mean, none of us have ever had an Eternal transformation except Sailor Moon, and that was because she had—" She stopped suddenly. "The Ginzuishou," she breathed. "Her talisman? Rei, is it possible?"

"I don't know," Rei answered sombrely. She sighed heavily. "I wish we could talk to Serenity about this. I don't think Michiru can do it; the talismans aren't that kind of tool. Just trying it could be dangerous to her. But…" She shrugged. "What if I'm wrong? The way things are going, do we dare keep her from trying?"

Ami bit her lip. "Have you talked to Minako about any of this?" she asked.

"Some," said Rei. "She said I shouldn't do anything to stop her…for now. But to watch her."

Ami nodded slowly. She looked worried. "Yes," she said. "Watch her. I think that may be wise."

- - -

**Interlude**

Slowly, the net tightened about Crystal Tokyo.

Everywhere, all over the world, the enemy were on the move. In most places, the crystites went about their own mysterious business. They roamed the deserted streets of the world's cities, apparently moving at random. They worked in the factories, making strange, meaningless objects that served no apparent purpose. They killed every squirrel they saw, though nobody could suggest any reason why. Now and then, vast numbers of crystites—sometimes ten thousand or more—could be seen in wide open spaces, moving in intricate, dance-like patterns, all of them perfectly in step.

One by one, the rebel cells throughout the world stopped communicating. Some of them were known to have been wiped out by the crystites. Others, the majority, simply fell silent, one by one. Rei and Ami teleported out to look for a few of them. They found well-stocked headquarters, without any signs of fighting—but with no people.

Early in June, the factories suddenly opened their doors, all over the world, and a host of machines rolled out and swarmed into action. Their exact purpose was uncertain, but it quickly became apparent that they were building something new in their turn: a strange, elaborate network, a web of crystal filaments, ranging from a few centimetres thick to over a metre, spreading slowly across the countryside. Cables, perhaps, or pathways of some other kind; but even to Ami they were incomprehensible.

The webs came together at certain locations: less than a score, over the entire globe. At the confluence points, different machines began to erect huge, alien structures, built of glittering crystal. They reminded some observers of hives. Or perhaps they were set up as mockeries of Crystal Tokyo itself.

Ami plotted the locations of the hives, and announced that they did follow a mathematical pattern. There was a gap in the pattern, though: one point where a hive was missing. No-one was particularly surprised to hear where that point was.

The people on space habitat L-117 went ahead and built their laser cannon, and fired it at one of the hives. Five-eighths of a second after they opened fire, an unexplained resonance effect travelled from the hive back _up_ the beam. When it reached the habitat, every power crystal on board shattered at once. The habitat itself exploded moments later; there were no survivors.

That same five-eighths of a second, however, was enough to melt or shatter a large portion of the target hive. The enemy showed no reaction to the damage, though. The construction machines simply stopped what they were doing and began to rebuild the structure. Within six days, it was difficult to see where the cannon had struck.

The Senshi attempted to teleport into one of the hives, to investigate what the Enemy was doing there. They encountered the same cripplingly painful barrier that surrounded the underground anomaly. Rei and Ami were unconscious for a day.

In Japan, a new army of crystites was on the move. From all over Japan they came, from all directions, more than fifty thousand of them, heading directly for Crystal Tokyo. There were reports of crystites simply walking south from Hokkaido, across the floor of Tsugaru Strait.

Here and there, scattered among their number, there were other, different creatures. Another kind of crystite, it seemed; similar in form, but larger, and a pale, delicate blue in colour. The regular, clear crystites seemed to defer to them. Perhaps the army had found leaders. Perhaps the Enemy had found—or made—Captains.

Meanwhile, Crystal Tokyo had not been idle. More and more of their resources were being converted to war production every day. The pause in the assault after Haruka's death had been enough for them to develop a slight edge. Every attack since then had been beaten off with little difficulty. The Senshi remained the city's main defence, but they were no longer being worked to exhaustion. The railgun design had been improved, and a portable version was being tested. Nobody had any doubts that, as things stood, they would be able to hold off the crystites indefinitely.

Nobody had any doubts that once the new crystite army arrived, the edge they held would vanish.

The pit in the heart of the city continued to deepen. As the workers dug further down, progress slowed; but a simple calculation showed that they would reach the anomaly at about the same time as the army reached the city.

As the day approached, the whole city held its breath.

- - -

**19 June, 3478**

Minako stood in the excavation site, keeping out of the way. Around her, an army of workers surged. There was an air of expectancy about them, an eagerness that shone even through the tension and the weariness stamped on every face.

The air was filled with the constant roar of heavy machinery. A dense cloud of dust hung over the area. There was a constant gritty taste in Minako's mouth. A few of the workers wore breathing masks, but most found them too hot or inconvenient. The site foremen had tried to make everybody keep them on, but Minako had stopped them; it was a horrible, cynical move, but a few cases of silicosis or pneumonoconiosis were a small price to pay for more speed.

Now and then, someone would glance up from what he or she was doing, catch her eye, and grin confidently. She would grin back, and raise her fingers in the V sign. It seemed to inspire them to work even harder.

Artemis was curled around her neck. It was uncomfortable, but she felt absurdly pleased to have him there. He hadn't ridden her shoulders like this in decades. It reminded her of the days when there had been just the two of them…

"How much longer?" she asked.

"You keep asking that," he complained. "They should break through to the anomaly in about an hour."

"And the enemy won't be here for six," she answered. "We're going to make it, Artemis, we're really going to make it!"

She felt, rather than heard, him snort. "And then the hard part begins," he pointed out. "Calm down, Mina-chan."

"Spoilsport," she said cheerfully, reaching up to ruffle his fur. He was probably right; but all the same, she could barely restrain her excitement. It was tempting to pull all the Senshi in now, ready for the attack. But there was still the possibility of something unexpected happening at the walls; she did not want to take the risk. Maybe in another half an hour…

She was still pondering the question, occasionally stepping out of the way as a vehicle roared past carrying another load of debris, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked around to see Makoto.

"You're early," she commented.

Makoto shrugged. "Everything's quiet on the walls. If something comes up, you can always help me teleport back. And…" She grinned. "I couldn't resist it. The chance to strike _back_ at last…" She punctuated the words by slapping a clenched fist into her hand.

Artemis groaned. "Not you, too," he said.

Minako sighed. "Artemis—"

"You think you're just going to drop down there, blast some evil monster, and it'll be all over?" he demanded. "You should know better than that. You should have _learned_ better than that. You think this is going to be a pushover? Look what happened to Usagi!"

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Makoto said, "That was pretty low, Artemis."

"Maybe it needed to be," he said quietly. "This isn't a game, Makoto. You can't afford to treat it like one."

"Is it treating it like a game to be pleased that we can actually _do_ something at last?" she demanded. "Is it a game to want to strike back? Damn it, Artemis, there isn't a day when I don't remember Usagi. There isn't a day when I dread seeing the look on Serenity's face when she wakes up and we have to tell her that Small Lady is dead! So—" there was sudden pleading in her voice—"is it so wrong that I should be looking forward to giving a little payback to the one who killed her? Is it?"

Artemis shook his head. "You're missing the point," he told her. "It's not wrong, Makoto. But it's not wise, either. If you go down there all excited and itching to strike back, you'll make mistakes. And that's something you absolutely can't afford. You should know _that_. You know what this enemy can do."

"We know," put in Minako. "Artemis, you're overreacting. We _do_ know. We've had a dozen planning sessions for this, we've sat through Rei's meditation lessons in case it tries to affect our minds like it did Moon's, we've gone through scenarios until the cows come home—" Makoto coughed suddenly, and Minako raised an eyebrow. "Yes? Something you wanted to say?"

"Sorry," said Makoto, straight-faced. "Dust in my throat."

"Of course," Minako purred. Then, to Artemis, she added, "High spirits don't mean we're not ready. So lay off a little, huh?"

He sighed, and grumbled, "I suppose so." Minako chuckled.

They watched the activity in silence for a few minutes. The pit was almost twenty metres across at the top, narrowing to less than three at the bottom, almost two kilometres below. A set of three rails ran down one side, bolted into the solid rock. Two of them carried broken-up rock up from the bottom, in a continuous circular train of iron scoops. The third rail carried a platform for transporting tools, equipment and people. Minako had ridden it down to the bottom once, two weeks before. It was rickety, bumpy and very noisy, and took more than five minutes to make a one-way trip, swaying and lurching from side to side all the way. In other circumstances, it might have been one hell of a fun ride.

As they watched, the platform reached the surface with a shrill whining screech that set their teeth on edge. A group of workmen got off, staggering a little as they set foot on solid ground once more. Three more stepped on to descend. They took it very casually, Minako saw. One of them didn't even hold on to the handrail; he kept his hands stuck in his pockets, even when the sudden jerk as the platform started downward made him stagger.

Minako shook her head in wonder. All of this machinery had been built from scratch; there had been no heavy mining equipment within Crystal Tokyo when the Enemy struck. Industrial lasers could cut rock, but it still had to be shifted out of the pit by manual labour. These people had worked miracles to have done so much, so fast. If the Senshi won this battle—no, _when_ they won this battle—she was going to make sure that the miners received the highest honours Serenity had to give.

"Forty minutes to go," Makoto sighed.

"Well, more or less," Artemis said pedantically. "It could take a little longer. Or even a—" He saw the look she was giving him, and got the message. "Why don't I go and check the progress board, just to make sure?" he said rapidly.

"Why don't you do that?" agreed Minako, smirking. With a put-upon sigh, he jumped down from her shoulder and hurried off. "Rat-bag," she muttered, watching him go and rubbing her neck. He hadn't been too careful with his claws. "He does worry, doesn't he?" she said affectionately.

Makoto chuckled. "Are you ever tempted to do something horrible to him?" she asked.

"Periodically," Minako admitted. "Hit him with catnip just before an important meeting, maybe." They both laughed. "He does worry," she repeated. "But it's nice to have someone who does that…"

After a little, Makoto said tentatively, "Isn't it about time to call the others in?"

Minako rubbed her shoulder absently. "I suppose so," she mumbled. She looked up suddenly and said, "Look, what is the problem with you and Rei, anyway?"

Makoto jerked, startled. "What—" she fumbled. "What do you mean?"

"Are you and her having some kind of squabble? I've noticed, the last few days, that you're keeping out of each other's way."

"Oh!" Makoto seemed unaccountably relieved. "We, er, had a bit of an argument a little while ago," she said cautiously. "Don't worry about it. We can handle it."

Minako snorted. "You could have picked a better time for it. Oh, well, I suppose—" She rubbed her shoulder again, and frowned. "I've seen that man before," she muttered.

"What man?"

"The one on the platform." She looked over at the pit, still frowning. "He reminds me of someone. Who does he remind me of?"

"Your sempai?" suggested Makoto, grinning.

"Don't you start." Minako scratched her head. "He reminds me of…he reminds me…" She blinked, suddenly looking confused. "He reminds me of Artemis. Now why is that?"

Makoto rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I wouldn't want to speculate about _that_."

"Oh, go wash your mouth out. Why would he remind me of—" Minako came to a sudden stop. Her eyes widened. "They're both a pain in the shoulder," she said. "Oh, _no_!"

Makoto stopped grinning. "What?" she asked sharply.

"He's the man I carried up from the borehead, back when all this started. He was the one who broke through to the anomaly. It did something to his hand…"

She cursed furiously. "He even had his hands in his pockets just now! Mako-chan, call the others in. I've got a bad feeling about this—"

Without waiting for an answer, she transformed and sprinted over to the pit.

She paused for a moment at the edge to glance down. A column of electric lights, evenly spaced, ran down the three rails. Every few seconds, they were blocked out of sight as a debris scoop rattled past. The passenger platform was out of sight, lost in darkness far below.

She watched the scoops, timing them carefully. Then she took a single quick breath and jumped.

At the last moment, as she hung suspended for an instant in mid-air, something hit her in the back, sending her tumbling off-balance. She felt needle-sharp claws digging into her. A familiar weight. _Artemis,_ she realised. _You crazy idiot—_

She twisted in mid-air and just managed to catch hold of one of the descending scoops. She pulled herself up onto it, breathing hard, and resisted the urge to bawl the cat out. Instead she glanced down, checking her timing once more.

"Ready?" she asked Artemis shortly. She felt him tense in response. Then she started downward again, leaping from scoop to scoop. It was a wild, dizzying, maniacal ride. She could feel the blood pounding in her veins. She felt utterly alive.

She felt desperately worried.

She gasped out the situation to Artemis as she went, plunging ever deeper into the ground. The man she had seen had no business being here. He was a cripple: his hand and lower forearm had been warped, distorted, the flesh transmuted into something resembling crystal. He had come into direct contact with something awful, and it had twisted him. The last Venus had heard of him, he was in hospital, in constant pain, surrounded by a team of scientists trying to analyse what had happened to him for some hint about the Enemy. His doctors, she thought, wanted to amputate the arm, but the scientists would not let them while there was any chance of learning more…

Here at the pit-site, dressed for work, was the last place he should have been. She did not know what it meant, but she was absolutely certain that it was nothing good. The timing of it, if nothing else, was ominous. And he was still far below them; he had several minutes' lead…

To her right, the passenger rail suddenly rattled, and ground to a halt. Then it began to rise again. Startled, she almost missed a jump. Makoto must have done it, she realised. She should have thought of it herself. Now she ought to have plenty of time to—

With a jerk, the passenger rail stopped once more. She heard a mechanical whining, like a machine overloading; then, from far below, a scream of tearing metal.

She gritted her teeth. She was out of time. All right, she'd just have to try this the tricky way…

She shot out her Love-Me Chain, wrapping it around the scoop she was standing on. Then, quite deliberately, she stepped off, holding onto the chain.

This was the quick way down. The hard part would be when she wanted to stop again.

Below her there was light, coming rapidly closer. She caught a confused glimpse of the passenger platform: a twisted, shattered ruin, hanging from the third rail as she went past. The wind was roaring in her ears. Then there was no more time; she tightened her grip on the chain, felt it tearing at her hands, the sudden wrench in her arms, the panicky grip around her neck as Artemis held on for dear life—the pain in her hands, the burning—

At the last moment she let the chain dissolve. She hit the bottom of the pit, hard, and rolled shakily to her feet to confront the man there.

Except that she was not sure that he was a man. Not any more.

He still looked human. Mostly. He was burly, muscular, and a little taller than her; the hair at his temples was turning grey. He was bending over something, adjusting it, but as she landed he straightened up quickly. There was a very convincing look of innocent surprise on his face. If that had been all, she might have been fooled.

But his left sleeve was pulled back, and she could see what had once been his hand. When she had carried him up from the borehead, weeks before, it had been a twisted mockery of a human hand: the fingers blurred, fused together into a solid, twisted mass, the skin itself changed into a glassy, crystalline substance. Now, the mutation had progressed still further. The thing at the end of his arm was no hand at all; it was a massive clamp, vise-like, with a glittering spike protruding from the bottom.

The spike was red with blood. Behind him, lying at the base of the third rail, were the bodies of the other two who had come down with him.

She took it all in in one quick look. "You're not going to come quietly, are you?" she asked rhetorically.

He did not reply. Instead he lunged at her; the spike flashed out, ready to impale. She was already dodging; as he came in range, she took hold of his arm and yanked, pulling him off balance. She followed the motion through, spinning him around and sending him flying head-first into the wall.

It ought to have dazed him, perhaps knocked him unconscious, but no more than that; there was not enough room at the base of the pit to get up enough momentum to hurt him badly. Instead, she heard a brittle crunching, splintering sound, shockingly loud. The man collapsed without another sound, sprawling limply on the gouged-up rock of the pit work-face. His head was twisted at an unnatural angle.

She stared for a moment, startled. Then she ran to his side. A tentative check showed no pulse. His body was already turning cold. His neck was unmistakably broken. He was dead.

She stood, looking down at him bewilderedly. She had not thrown him nearly hard enough to break his neck. Surely? Numbly, she reached for her communicator to tell Makoto that the problem was over—

Wait a moment. How could his body _already_ feel cold—?

His eyes flew open. "Boo," he said, and started to laugh. At the same moment, he began to change. His face blurred, rippled; his body began to twist, reform. As Venus stood staring in shock, he lifted one arm, almost casually, and smashed her off her feet. She hit the wall of the pit with bone-numbing force. By the time she could see again, much less move, he was towering over her.

He was no longer even faintly human. But he was not a crystite, either; he was something…new. Three metres tall, at least. His clothing had split, and was hanging off him; the skin underneath was translucent, crystalline—almost faceted. It shone with a deep golden light. His arms and legs were monstrous, club-like things; both hands were spiked clamps now. His face was distorted, like a parody of a human face. There was a third eye in the centre of his forehead. All three eyes glowed a pale blue.

She had no time to react. He picked her up and threw her up the shaft.

She spun uncontrollably as she rose, bouncing off the walls three times. It was painful. Worse, it was humiliating. Gritting her teeth, she reached out at the apex of her flight and caught one of the rubble scoops, which were still rattling along in their endless loop. She perched on it for a second, rubbing a sore shoulder. Then she tapped her communicator. Sailor Jupiter's face appeared.

"I could use some help down here," she told her. As she spoke, she leaned over the edge for a moment to check how far up the shaft she'd been thrown. "Our man's transformed," she continued. "He's big and strong, and pretty fast. Tell the others to—_whuhh_!" She cut off sharply as she saw what her enemy was doing.

He was only a few dozen metres below her, and gaining fast. He was swarming up the third rail, hand-over-hand, as easily as if he were climbing a ladder. There was a broad, hungry grin on that twisted face. His eyes blazed in the darkness.

She had just enough time to fire off a Crescent Beam before he reached him. He twisted, as if he had felt it coming, and it passed over his shoulder.

She dodged back, just in time, as he reached her level. A blow from one of those massive hand-clamps shattered the rock where her head had been. The wall cracked; fragments of stone caught in the scoops' drive-chain with an ear-splitting, grinding squeal. She ducked another blow, leaped across to a passing scoop on the other rail, and spun, firing a Crescent Beam at him as she went.

This time it hit him squarely in the chest—and suddenly he lit up, as if he were some giant crystal lamp and she had just provided the power. For a second she had to shield her eyes. In that moment, another blow caught her squarely in the breast.

It knocked her back, end-over-end, off the scoop. She began to fall once more, crying out in pain and surprise. Even so, long centuries of experience did not fail her. She managed to fire off another Love-Me Chain, wrapping it around a lower scoop. She swung in toward the rails, bounced once more off the wall, and finally managed to drag herself up onto one of the rising scoops. She lay in it for a few seconds, eyes closed, gasping for breath and trying to nurse her sore chest.

"Minako-chan?"

She managed to open her eyes, and found herself face-to-face with Artemis. He had been following her up in the scoop, she realised. "I'm okay," she groaned. "Just give me a moment." She had had worse before. Not often, admittedly.

She picked up Artemis and looked up the shaft for her enemy. He was easy to make out; his body was still glowing brilliantly, far brighter than before she'd hit him. He was no longer ascending; he was clinging to the side of the pit somehow, high above her. She had a sudden thought, and fired another Crescent Beam at him. Maybe it would overload him and make him shatter or something. He dodged easily, but otherwise stayed motionless in the shaft.

Far above, she could see other sparks of power, arcing down toward him. Jupiter, and at least two of the others, coming in range at last. But he ducked their shots as easily as he had Venus', without moving from his position on the wall.

"Damn it," Venus swore. "What is he doing up there?" She decided to see if he could dodge a Love and Beauty Shock.

The sound of an explosion interrupted her.

It came from far below her, a sudden bellowing roar, the sound amplified by the shape of the pit. She froze, taken by surprise. Too late, she remembered that he had been working on something when she had reached the bottom. _A bomb? He'll bring the whole pit down around himself—_

A second later, a great wind caught her, almost lifting her off the scoop. A reverse avalanche of loose rock and pebbles shot out of the depths, as if fired from a shotgun. She was struck a hundred times or more in a fraction of a second. The world went black.

—She opened her eyes an indeterminate time later. The air was chokingly thick with dust. It was dark all around her; the lamps that lined the shaft had been shattered by the blast. Some way above, she could see a few that were still working. The scoop she was lying on was no longer moving.

One of the lamps far above her moved, and she realised that it was not a lamp after all; she was seeing the enemy. He was still glowing, still clinging to the side of the pit.

As she watched, he became a star.

Another explosion. He had been setting a second bomb, she realised faintly. Or perhaps, his task accomplished, he had _become_ a second bomb. Either way, it did not matter. Before the last of the lamps went out, she saw the sides of the pit began to cave in above her. Thousands of tonnes of rock began to fall straight toward her.

Artemis was shouting in her ear. "Teleport, Venus! Teleport!"

Teleport. Yes, that was a good idea. Somehow, she managed to drive the cobwebs from her mind; she took hold of Artemis, reached out for the power, and twisted the two of them through space a fraction of a second before the scoop she had been lying in was buried.

- - -

The pit was a total ruin. After Venus and Artemis had been taken to hospital, Jupiter ordered the pit crew to start digging it out again. The foreman warned her that the walls would be unstable after the cave-in; they would have to work slowly, strengthening them as they went. She listened, nodded curtly, and told him to do the best he could.

Then she went to the city wall. The crystites were about to arrive.

- - -

**22 June, 3478**

A high-pitched whine split the air and people dove for cover. A cluster of energy bolts struck the wall, tearing out a hole nearly a dozen metres wide. As the echoes of the explosion faded, they were replaced to the cries and moans of the wounded.

Moments later, the railguns opened up in reply. Pencil-thin lines of white flame shot back at the source of the bolts: a group of three Blue Crystites that stood outside the walls, in a triangle formation, about eight hundred metres away.

There was a an odd metallic glitter in the air about the trio: a shimmering that clung near to them like an almost-imperceptible shell of mist. As the railgun shots entered the shell, they twisted, their paths bending crazily. Most of them came straight back out of the shell, moving at wild, unpredictable angles. The shots travelled so fast that it all happened in the blink of an eye; they were fired and deflected in a microsecond.

Some few shots did not return. Whether they were actually penetrating the shield or not, nobody could say. They had no visible effect on the Blue Crystites.

Ami had tried to analyse the shield. She'd announced that it was not a magnetic field, or any other kind of electromagnetic field that she could detect. She also claimed that railgun shots showed a marked red-shift effect as they were deflected. The others nodded wisely and tried to look as though they understood.

The Blue Crystites were taller and heavier than the regular, clear variety. The faces in the centre of their chests were different, too; their eyes were fully open, and their mouths occasionally worked silently, as if trying to shout or scream. And, of course, the Blue variety had a few abilities that the others lacked.

The trio raised their twelve arms and gestured, and a new barrage of energy bolts arced toward the walls. Another section of the wall became rubble.

In the wake of the bolts came the physical attack. A vast army of regular crystites surrounded the city. Wherever the walls were hit, they swarmed forward. Defenders rushed to fill the breaches with sacks of rubble from the collapsed pit, but every time, there were fewer defenders to make the effort.

"They're destroying us," groaned Michiru. She was standing on top of the wall, perilously close to where the latest bolts had struck, but she did not flinch, even when they hit. She was being peppered with rock fragments, but she barely seemed to notice.

"For heaven's sake, at least transform!" hissed Jupiter, emerging gingerly from shelter. Endymion followed her, throwing a dark glance out at the enemy before stepping up onto the wall beside the other two.

Michiru did not seem to hear. "They hit us and hit us, and we can't…we don't even have the power to strike back," she whispered bleakly.

"We can strike back," said Endymion. "We _are_ striking back."

Michiru turned her head, finally acknowledging him. Her eyes were dark, empty. "Pinpricks against an elephant," she said. "That's all. Do you actually think we can succeed?"

"We _will_ succeed," said Jupiter grimly.

"We must," added Endymion.

She stared at them for a moment longer, then looked away, unable to meet their gazes. "This isn't—" she began, then broke off. "It's not what we need," she said hoarsely. "Not another attack. Not throwing more…more lives away. We can't just…it's not guns. We don't need more guns. We can't fight them with guns. We can't…"

She trailed away into silence. They saw that her cheeks were wet.

"What do we need?" asked Jupiter gently.

"A different weapon," Michiru whispered. "Not guns. _Power_. We have to find—"

The strength seemed to go out of her, all at once. She fell to her knees, clutching at the stone wall like a security blanket. "It's no good," she said mournfully. "It's no good. I've tried and tried, but I can't find—I can't find it—"

Endymion knelt beside her, and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "You need to have faith," he suggested.

She turned on him. "Faith?" Her voice was bitter. "Faith? What use is faith? I used to have faith. It didn't help. It didn't—I couldn't—" She sagged back once more. "Half of me is missing," she said dully. "What is there left to have faith in?"

"Light," he suggested. His tone was firm, confident, full of certainty.

"Life," said Jupiter.

"Serenity," Endymion added.

Michiru opened her mouth, as if to contradict them, but then closed it again, shaking her head. "You can't see it. I can't argue with you," she muttered. "I can't…" She shuddered under Endymion's hand.

"Michiru," he said softly.

She did not respond at first. Then she sighed, and got to her feet slowly. "All right," she said wearily. "You want me to come with you, I suppose?" He nodded. "For all the good it'll do," she muttered.

Jupiter and Endymion exchanged glances. "Yes," Jupiter said. "You should come now. We're supposed to move out in a few minutes."

Michiru nodded shortly. She closed her eyes, and a ripple of change washed over her, leaving Sailor Neptune in its wake. "Let's go, then," she said.

They were staring at her. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Jupiter pointed. She looked down. The bow on her breast had changed. It was no longer blue. It had become so dark that it was almost black.

She gave a bitter laugh. "It's appropriate, don't you think?" she said. "After all, I'm the only one left. The only Outer Senshi…the last to stand against the outer darkness…"

"Michiru—" Jupiter hesitated, then said, "You sound like you…"

"Like I want to die?" Neptune laughed: an ugly sound. "You don't understand. I don't want that at all. I want—" Her eyes grew distant. "I want it to _mean_ something."

"Haruka's death, you mean?" asked Endymion.

She laughed again. "You _don't_ understand. I mean…all of this. Everything! Damn it—" She broke off. "Look," she said. "We sacrificed our youths…we gave our whole lives to build this. We worked for fifteen fucking hundred years to build paradise, and now look at it! Two months, and it's all gone! Can't you _see_?

"Think about it," she urged them desperately. "We built Utopia—no, Serenity built it, she was always the heart of it all, but damn it, we were a part of it too! We built Paradise! But if our Utopia was this fragile—if it could be destroyed around us this easily—then what _good_ was it? If everything we worked for could be taken away so quickly, then what was the _point_? What does it _mean_?

"Don't you see?" she whispered. "I just don't want it to have been for nothing."

There was a long silence. Endymion and Jupiter stared at her. In the distance, they heard another series of explosions. Neptune sighed, and started to turn away.

"Then fight," snapped Jupiter.

Neptune looked around quickly, shocked.

"Fight, damn it!" Jupiter repeated. Her voice was filled with anger. "You want it all to be 'meaningful'…how dare you! The only thing that makes it meaningless right now is that you've given up! You want meaning? You want what you've done to be significant? Then _defend_ it! Instead of just beating your breast and moaning about how sad you feel!"

"The surest way to defeat," said Endymion quietly, "is to give up before you begin." He shook his head, and something like a smile crossed his lips. "Michiru, it's not hopeless. It's not. You know that Ami's devoting every available moment to trying to find a way to strike back. Even if all we do is buy time for her…it's not hopeless. It's not meaningless. It's not."

"Maybe," said Neptune, her voice subdued. "But a chance of winning would be nice…"

She held one hand out toward them, the fist closed. "A way to strike back. Is that what you said?" She laughed mirthlessly, and raised her hand above her head. When she opened her grip, they saw that she was holding her henshin wand.

"Neptune eternal make-up," she breathed.

For a moment, there was utter silence. The dim, watery sunlight seemed to gather around the rod in her hand. A halo of power clung to it, and spread, reaching down her arm—

No. It was gone. More likely, it had never been. Sailor Neptune slumped back, her head bowed, her arms limp. Her face was pale, and beaded with sweat; her hands were shaking. "It's no good," she groaned. "I can't do it. I can't find it, no matter how hard I try."

"Eternal—?" Jupiter stared at her. "You—Is _that_ what you've been doing?" She reached out and took Neptune by the shoulders, shaking her gently. "You know you can't—you _know_ that none of us ever—oh, you idiot—" She drew her in, hugging her, holding her until the shaking stopped. "You idiot," she murmured again.

"I thought I—" Neptune's voice was muffled. She pulled back a little, without breaking Jupiter's embrace. She was shivering. "I wanted to find…I thought, there must be a way—if it's to mean anything, there _must_ be a way to, to win somehow…a power that could help us…and the Eternal transformation was the only thing I could think of…"

"You should know that you can't force it," said Endymion softly. "If it's even possible at all, it will come in its own time."

"But we have so little time left!"

"Only if you give up," Jupiter said firmly. "If you're willing to try, there's no limit to what you can do."

"But I _have_ been trying! I have been—" Neptune stopped suddenly. "Have I?" she asked, sounding oddly curious.

Endymion's voice was sad. "Have you?" he repeated. "Or have you been hiding away, looking for a magic way to make everything right again?"

"Maybe I have," she murmured. "Maybe I—oh, damn it, I don't know anything any more…if only—" She looked up at them, and her eyes were full of tears. "If only Haruka were here, to tell me what's right! She always knew—she was always so certain—" And with that, at last, the floodgates were opened, and she began to cry.

"You don't need Haruka for that," Endymion told her. "You need courage, and faith. Believe in yourself, Michiru. Believe that there's hope."

"I know," she wept. "I know." Then suddenly she laughed through her tears. "That's what you always say, isn't it? 'Believe in yourself.' How come you're always so _right_ all the time?"

He buffed his fingernails on his armour. "It's a talent I have," he said modestly. "Pick a message and stick with it, that's the trick."

She sniffed. "Idiot," she whispered. But it had done the trick; the mood had been broken. She pulled free of Jupiter and said with a sigh, "It's time to go, isn't it?"

Jupiter checked. "Another five minutes," she said. "Then we'll find out…"

"So we will," Neptune answered sombrely. She looked out over the ruined, pitted land beyond the city wall. The trio of Blue Crystites was moving on; they were already several hundred metres further down the wall.

"Maybe we _do_ have a chance," she said, half to herself. "Maybe…"

Sensing her mood, Jupiter and Endymion did not reply. They simply stood with her, waiting in silence, as the minutes ticked away.

At last, the signal came.

And the gates of Crystal Tokyo opened, and her people poured forth, and went to war.

- - -

The army surrounding Crystal Tokyo was led by some thirty-six Blue Crystites, raining down an almost constant, devastating hail of death and destruction on the walls. They seldom approached the walls closely; they seemed to prefer to strike from a distance, letting the Clear Crystites act as their infantry. Even so, in just three days they had brought the city's defences to the brink of collapse.

Nothing seemed able to stop them. Nothing seemed to touch them at all. The Senshi had tried to strike back, several times. The Blue Crystites simply fell back when they came on the field, and allowed their clear kindred to fight in their place. Each time, within a few minutes the Senshi were so outnumbered that they had no choice but to retreat.

They usually travelled in groups of three. Now and then, larger groups would meet and act in concert for a short time; but three seemed to be the minimum number. Venus had planned the assault for a moment when the trios were as close together as possible.

On her signal, one thousand, eight hundred and fifty flyers lifted over the walls and flew to the attack. Each of them was armoured, and each of them carried as many people and weapons as would fit. They opened fire as soon as they cleared the wall.

At first they concentrated their aim on the crystites surrounding the city gates, opening a space for the second wave of the attack. Once the way was clear, the gates opened and the ground forces emerged: a ragtag army, on foot or riding in ground-effect vehicles, carrying the new portable railguns.

Then the flyers swept out toward their designated targets. They were limited in range; beyond a certain distance from the city, the enemy would have taken control of them. Within that range, though, there was no shortage of enemies. The larger flyers set down and people and equipment poured out, establishing beach-heads. The others continued to move in evasive patterns, keeping up constant fire on the nearby crystites.

They were using more than just railguns, now. They carried anything and everything that had a chance of damaging the enemy; everybody knew what would happen if they failed. So the crystites were deluged with acid sprays and ultrasonic bursts, plasma torches and tachyon streams, and even simple, traditional high explosives. The air was filled with smoke and thick, choking fumes, and penetrated by the blazing white tracery of railgun fire. The whistle and crump of artillery was everywhere, and the constant humming of the charging accelerators. At this range, it was hoped that the bombardment would be enough to penetrate the Blue Crystites' shields. Nothing would be held back today; every possibility would be tried.

When the attack began, the Blue Crystites hesitated, as if uncertain. Some of them began to turn away from the conflict, as they did when the Senshi entered the field. In that moment, the bombardment actually penetrated their shields for an instant and struck home. Six Blue Crystites exploded into vapour.

The attackers raised a cheer at the sight; but this minor victory seemed to make up the other crystites' minds. They started to move again—the loss of their companions did not seem to bother them at all—and began to fire back. A wave of energy bolts launched out at the attackers.

At this range there was no defence. Seventy human positions were reduced to blood and ash.

The bombardment continued; but the Blue Crystites no longer seemed troubled by it. Shots that hit the shields glanced off, or ricocheted back. The crystites fired again. Three hundred men and women died.

Standing on top of the wall, overlooking the battle, Venus swore. "They're recovering too fast!" she said furiously. "Is everybody ready? We've got to start now!"

The other Senshi nodded, and stepped into place. Neptune and Endymion moved forward, ready to shield the others if they were attacked. Then, at their ready nods, the four Inner Senshi stood in a circle, linked hands once more, closed their eyes—and joined their powers.

They had been unable to use their force shield to cover the city; the power radiating from the Ginzuishou made it impossible. But here, on the fringes of that power, Mercury had calculated that they would be able to use it for more limited purposes. So they joined together and united their strength, and focused it into a tight ball, and cast it _downward_. Out and down, into the battlefield—materialising the field precisely around a group of six Blue Crystites.

For a few moments, it hung there, shimmering faintly, sparkling where the breeze blew clouds of smoke into it. Then the Senshi began to pour all their power into it.

It began to shrink. It collapsed inward upon the crystites, smaller and smaller. It caught their shield and drove that inward too, forcing it down, back. For a few seconds it seemed as though the Senshi were going to win unopposed. Then the crystites struck back. Their shield stiffened against the Senshi's. The implosion slowed, then stopped.

The intersection of the two fields began to glow. Energy arced across it. The Inner Senshi gritted their teeth and pushed harder. The shields shuddered, and closed a few centimetres further in. Then they stopped again.

One by one, the other groups of Blue Crystites on the battlefield stopped firing upon the attacking humans. One by one, they looked up at the little group of Senshi on the wall.

"Here they come," said Endymion softly.

The crystites opened fire. Energy bolts blazed through the air toward the Senshi. Neptune and Endymion sprang to the defence. Neptune pulled out the Aqua Mirror and summoned a sheet of water that arched through the air. Every bolt that struck it was absorbed in a burst of steam. For his part, Endymion suddenly shifted out of his armour, and into a costume that he had not worn in centuries: his black tuxedo, complete with mask, top hat and cane. With one quick gesture, he threw the cane up into the air. It hung there, spinning like a propeller, and somehow contrived to arc around, catching the incoming bolts and deflecting them.

Behind them, the Inner Senshi groaned with effort, and drove their shield inward another half metre. It now formed a sphere less than five metres in diameter. The conflicting energies were almost too bright to look at.

"They can't do it," Neptune breathed.

"Yes, they can," said Endymion, his voice filled with the utmost confidence and certainty. "They believe, so they can do anything."

He winked at her. "With a little help from their friends." And he plucked a rose out of nothingness, and threw it.

It flew in an improbably straight line, straight toward the sphere. When it hit, it somehow passed through, unhindered—and struck one of the crystites directly in the eye.

The stalemate was broken in an instant. The Senshi's shield collapsed inward, almost too quickly to follow. There was a blinding flash, and a sound like thunder. Moments later, where six Blue Crystites had stood, there was nothing but a faint glittering powder, floating in the breeze.

The four Inner Senshi opened their eyes and released each other's hands with a gasp. They staggered back, chests heaving, their faces pale with strain. "We got them," wheezed Venus. "I think we got them."

"Yes," confirmed Endymion. "They're gone."

But Neptune shook her head, and said, "You got _them_? Take another look. Who got who?"

They looked out over the battlefield, and saw what had happened while they had been busy.

The forces of Crystal Tokyo were in total rout. More than twelve thousand people had gone out to fight, and less than a tenth of them were left. None of the flyers were still in the air. Thousands of crystites were destroyed, their shards littering the battlefield; but the others simply ignored their losses and pressed on. Here and there the Senshi could see scattered remnants of the human forces who were still fighting, but even as they watched another one of them broke and began to flee. The crystites cut them down before they had gone ten metres.

"Massacred," Neptune moaned. "They're being massacred."

"No…" whispered Rei in horror.

A large body of men and women, a thousand or more, were making toward one of the city gates. Behind them, a small group had stopped and turned to fight—deliberately sacrificing themselves to buy the others a little more time. They managed to bring down a few of the enemy, before the advancing crystites rolled over them.

The rest of the soldiers fought on toward the gates. There were under attack from every direction, but they were making headway. For a minute it looked as thought they were going to make it. Then an advancing flank of crystites surged out in front of them, cutting them off and forcing them to stop. In a few seconds more, they were surrounded.

The crystites began to close in on them, in a horrid mockery of the way the Senshi had close their shield upon the Blue Crystites only moments before.

"We've got to _do_ something!" raged Neptune.

"How do we fight fifty thousand crystites at once?" shouted back Venus. "If you have any suggestions, I'd like to hear them!"

"The shield," rapped out Makoto. "Around those people. If we can cover them for long enough—"

"Quickly, then," Venus snarled. She held out her hands to Makoto and Rei. Ami closed the gap an instant later. They closed their eyes in concentration. Out on the battlefield, a glimmering formed, and spread to became a broad dome, covering the beleaguered soldiers.

"Follow them," Venus gasped through clenched teeth. "Move it…as they move…"

Slowly, the dome began to creep across the ground, following the people underneath as they started for the gates once more. For a little, it seemed that it was going to work. Then the Blue Crystites began to fire their energy bolts again—straight into the shield.

Nobody had to point out the obvious—that it was much harder for the Senshi to cast the shield from a distance, than when they stood at its centre. The bolts struck them like physical blows; as each one hit the dome, the four groaned in pain. Their grip on each other's hands was all that kept them from falling.

"Hold on," pleaded Neptune. "You've got to hold on!"

Endymion watched furiously. The remaining Blue Crystites were out of range of his roses, or even his Smoking Bomber attack. "Can't you help them?" he demanded helplessly.

"No!" she said helplessly. "None of the Outers could do it. We were there to attack the Queen's enemies. They were the ones who were supposed to shield the Princess…"

She cast a tormented look down at the battlefield. "But I can't attack now," she whispered. "I can't leave…and I can't fight that many of them anyway…"

She looked down at the Aqua Mirror, still in her hand, and then back up at Endymion. "You said they believe, so they can do anything," she said beseechingly. "What can _I_ do now?"

The Blue Crystites fired again. A section of the dome flared with light, and Sailor Mars cried out in agony.

Neptune held up her henshin wand. "There must be more than this," she whispered.

Mercury groaned with effort. There was blood in her mouth, where she had bitten through her lip.

Sailor Neptune took a deep breath. "Neptune Eternal Make-up."

Another volley of shots. Jupiter gasped in pain. The dome blazed, and a narrow section of it winked out. Inside, a score of people fell.

"Neptune Eternal Make-up!"

"Michiru, don't," said Endymion.

More people died. Venus snarled in fury, and drove the gap in the dome closed again. In another moment, it was blasted open once more.

"No!" Neptune cried out. "Neptune Eternal Make-up!"

She was down on her knees, now, henshin wand in one hand and mirror in the other. Her face was chalk-white and beaded with sweat. Her words no longer drew even a glimmer of power from the stick, but each repetition was draining more from her all the same. She looked ready to pass out.

"Michiru, stop," Endymion pleaded. "You're only hurting yourself."

The crystites fired as one. The dome flickered, and for a moment guttered out of existence entirely. The Inner Senshi doggedly forced it back; but it was only a pale shadow of its former self now, a mere glimmer in the air.

"I don't care!" Neptune raged. "Do you hear? NEPTUNE ETERNAL MAKE-UP!"

Nothing happened. She swayed and fell. Her Senshi uniform flickered and faded. Kaiou Michiru levered herself painfully up onto her hands and knees, and then to her feet. She still held the mirror and her henshin wand.

The crystites fired. And fired. And fired.

The dome vanished like a soap bubble. The Inner Senshi collapsed to the ground, like puppets whose strings had been cut. Down on the battlefield, the last of the army of Crystal Tokyo began to die.

"No, damn it!" Michiru screamed. "NO! I WON'T LET IT END LIKE THIS!"

She held up the Aqua Mirror. For one moment it shone in her hand, as if a piece of the sun had been caught in the glass. Then, in one swift, sure motion, she brought it smashing it down onto the solid stone.

The mirror shattered with a gentle tinkle.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

A blaze of raw power erupted from the fragments. A fountain of light, a vortex of energy; it roared out of the splintered remains of the Aqua Mirror, an all-consuming, sea-green storm of chaos and destruction. There was a thunderclap of sound, like a storm-wave breaking, like the howling of a banshee wind, like the clamorous ringing of a thousand thousand bells.

Above it all, out of the centre of that vortex, out of a throat aflame with power and raw with need, came her cry.

"**_NEPTUNE ETERNAL MAKE-UP!_**"

The vortex became a whirling spindle of energy. It drew in, turned back on itself. Like an explosion in reverse, it collapsed inward. It poured itself into her; it filled her to bursting and then did it again, over and over. The air was sharp with the smell of ozone. Streamers of light, pale turquoise and aquamarine, burst out from the core of the spindle, arced back and shot into her like spears. The roaring of the ocean. A delicate shimmering, like sunlight refracted through an endlessly-moving watery surface.

The light and the power faded. They left behind a woman transfigured.

Her uniform was a delicate cream colour; her skirt was a pale green, with a double border of gold and aquamarine. Her gloves were longer, and of the same cream as her leotard. The bow on her breast had been replaced by a pair of stylised wings, of the same green as her skirt. The stone that had been in the centre of the bow had become a golden disc, imprinted with the astrological symbol for Neptune.

And on her back, there were her wings. But these wings were not flesh and blood and bone and feather. They were things of shimmering energy and pearly shadow. They seemed to ebb and flow, brightening and fading, as she moved.

"Yes," she whispered. "Oh, yes."

Then she took one short running leap, and soared into the air. Eternal Sailor Neptune circled once over the battlefield, and then swooped to the attack.

Her voice was clear and triumphant as she cried out her attack. "SOLAR TIDE EXECUTION WAVE!" And it came: a column of light, falling from the sky; a titanic beam of power, savage and beautiful, shimmering and rippling with all the colours of the sea. She caught it in her palms, and it gathered there; it swelled and took form, became a weapon of glittering energy. In the instant before she let it fly, it looked like a trident.

It howled down out of the sky like a meteor and struck the shield of a trio of Blue Crystites. It caught there for a moment, glowing brighter and brighter. Then it burst through. The shield flared out of existence, and the crystites followed it a microsecond later, swept away in a wave of sea-green energy that washed outward, taking more than a hundred other crystites with it before it finally faded out of view.

Down on the wall, the Inner Senshi were climbing back to their feet. They watched in stunned amazement; they heard her laugh in exultation as she launched the attack again and again. The sky was alight with green fire. Neptune herself almost seemed to be glowing.

"She's doing it," whispered Jupiter. "She's actually doing it."

The trident lashed down from the skies once more. Another trio of Blue Crystites became vapour. There were only four groups left now. They directed their energy bolts up at her, but she dodged them easily, wheeling and diving effortlessly around them. She was surrounded by a halo of blue-green light.

"No, wait," said Mercury. "Look."

Another hammer-blow from the heavens; another group of crystites flared out of existence, consumed by sea-green fire. The halo around Neptune continued to brighten. Her wings were glowing with a pale light.

There was horror in Mercury's voice. "It's too much for her," she said. "She can't—"

Neptune struck again; the trident thundered down toward its target—and missed. The Execution Wave hit the ground, carving out a deep crater. Neptune seemed to stagger in the sky; for a moment, it looked as though she was going to fall. Then she recovered and flew on, but more slowly than before. Still she glowed brighter.

Mercury's computer was in her hands; her fingers flew over it, scanning and analysing. "She can't possibly keep this up," she said. "The power is going to burn her to a cinder—"

Neptune's eyes were shining like twin stars. She left a luminous trail behind her in the sky. She was not laughing any more; she looked as though she were in pain. She threw another Execution Wave at the crystites that she'd missed before, and destroyed them; but as the energy left her hands, she seemed to sag. And still the aurora about her brightened.

"The power of the Talismans was never meant to be wielded so directly," Mercury said. "That's why it was bound away as it was. Her body can't channel that much energy." She looked sick. "She's burning herself up from within, with every attack…"

Above them, Neptune banked over another trio of crystites, and threw one more attack. It burned down from the sky—and behind it, for an instant Neptune too seemed to burn. They heard her cry out, faint and distant—and then she reeled and tumbled and began to fall, a helpless shooting star.

"No!" screamed Mars. "Sailor Neptune! Michiru!"

Barely fifty metres above the ground, Neptune stirred, and straightened out, spreading her wings and turning her plummet into a controlled dive. She pulled out of it just in time, skimming over the ground so low that she could have reached out and touched the crystites below her. They reached up for her as she passed, missing her by a hairsbreadth; in another second, she was moving upward again. She was so bright now that she seemed to leave a glowing trail in the air. But she was moving slowly, oh so slowly…

They saw her face for a moment as she passed over the wall. It was tense, drawn with pain, but filled with a grim resolution. She beat her way back up into the air, rising higher and higher. Below her, the last remnants of the human army escaped to safety through a field of enemy filled with confusion.

Venus tapped her communicator. "Michiru," she said urgently. "You've got to come back down, quickly. Ami says if you keep this up, you're going to—"

"Venus." It was Neptune's voice. But she sounded—strange.

Venus hesitated. "Yes," she said.

"Tell the others goodbye for me."

"What?" Venus looked down at her communicator, and then up into the sky in dawning realisation. "No!" she shouted.

"She knew," Jupiter said, horror in her voice. "She knew."

Above them, Neptune soared higher and higher. She was picking up speed now. She glowed, almost too brilliantly to look at. There were two suns in the sky, but one of them was green, and it moved rapidly through the air.

The sky darkened. Clouds began to gather around her. They moved in a vast spiral, slowly drawing inward.

Venus' communicator crackled, and they heard Michiru's voice say one more word. "Haruka," she murmured.

Then she cried out; and even from that great height, thousands of metres up in the air, her voice was piercingly clear and powerful; a voice filled with all the power of the sea, uttering words of thunder.

"NEPTUNE ETERNAL TSUNAMI!"

She flared with light. She became a star; she became a supernova. The heavens opened, and began to descend in fury.

Venus stiffened. "Get everybody off the wall," she snapped to Endymion. "Hurry!"

He lifted a commlink and began to speak quickly. Far above him, a sheet of solid water filled the sky. It drew nearer, and nearer. In the centre of it was a point of light.

All along the wall, people began to scramble for cover. Venus stood firm, her eyes lifted steadily upward. Her face was wet with tears.

The light grew brighter and brighter. Something was happening to the falling water. It foamed, roiled. There was a great wind, and a noise like a distant rumble, growing louder and louder. The water was boiling. Still the light grew, and the water became hotter yet; it became vapour, superheated steam, and then still hotter.

Venus looked over her shoulder. Above the city, the sky was clear. The tsunami was only falling outside the walls. Even in her final moments, Neptune's control was exquisite.

An ocean of raw, star-hot plasma descended on the crystites in almost perfect silence. From her place on the city wall, Venus watched it fall. A mighty scorching-hot wind came, threatening to lift her off her feet; but after a minute or two it dropped, and all was quiet again. The ground where the crystites had been was empty.

There was a sweet, fresh smell in the air.

- - -

"She knew," Jupiter repeated brokenly. "She knew it was killing her, but she wouldn't stop until it was finished…"

Endymion rested a hand on her shoulder. "Hush," he said gently. "She found the answers she was looking for."

She looked up at him defiantly. "How do you know?" she demanded. "How can you be so sure?"

- - -

Afterward, when the earth had cooled enough for it to be safe, Venus went out to see for herself. She found Neptune's uniform, some distance from the city gate. Her henshin wand and communicator were lying nearby. Nothing was left of her body at all.

The bow on the front of her uniform was a bright blue.

- - -

**Götterdämmerung**

Neptune's sacrifice delayed the end for a full week.

By the time Venus carried her uniform back to the city, a new army of crystites was already on its way. A new group of thirty-six Blue Crystites led it. They reached the walls of Crystal Tokyo on the 29th of June, and broke through shortly after midnight the next day.

The moon had just set. The skies were deep and black. In the city streets, there was fire.

Most of the people were gone. The Senshi had spent their week of grace in escorting people away from the city. The camp they had been taken to was primitive, but it was the best that anyone had to offer. Too many defenders had died in that last disastrous battle, and it was painfully clear that, short of a miracle, nothing could save Crystal Tokyo now.

A few people would not leave; they insisted on staying and fighting to the last. Venus could not refuse them the right. Besides, with their help it was just possible that they would have enough strength to defend the Palace itself. Maybe, just maybe, there might be a miracle yet. If Serenity could break free…

The defenders met the enemy at the gates, and fell back along carefully- planned routes. At every step, they had set up barricades and other obstructions, designed to channel the advancing enemy through specific points. There were mines or booby-traps at some of those points. At others, concealed railguns were waiting.

The crystites paid them no heed. They advanced, imperturbable. Where there were obstacles, they smashed them or went around. Where there were booby-traps, the first to pass were destroyed—and the others came on. Where there were railguns, the crystites were shattered by tens and hundreds—but the gunfire could not hit all of them, and always, there were more coming.

They advanced from all directions, and they destroyed everything as they came, people and buildings both. Behind them they left nothing but a ruined wasteland.

At a little after nine in the morning, the last defenders fell back to the Palace and closed the doors. A curious silence fell. They exchanged glances and nervous grins. Win or lose, this was the last throw of the dice.

- - -

Venus looked down from a window high in the Palace and swore softly. "Look at them all," she said in disgust. "Where do they keep coming from?"

Mars shrugged. "One in ten people were changed," she said. "I doubt that we've seen even a twentieth of all the crystites in Japan alone." She looked over Venus' shoulder, down at the army surrounding the Palace. "A lot of them, aren't there?" she remarked.

Venus glared at her. "I'm glad you're taking it so calmly," she said acidly.

"Would you rather I panicked?" An angry gleam appeared in Mars' eye. "Or perhaps I could throw myself into the sacred fire, and see if it turns me into Eternal Sailor Mars?"

Venus winced. "Don't even joke about it."

"No," Mars agreed. Her anger retreated, a little. "Michiru despaired. I won't do that. She—she stole power, and used it to force a transformation she wasn't ready for, and she paid the—" She cut off short, unwilling to complete her sentence. Instead she sighed. "I'd suspected what she was thinking of, but I never dreamed she'd try what she did."

"She was always that way," said Venus morosely. "Her and Haruka. 'Sacrifices have to be made.' It was almost the Outers' motto."

Mars nodded. "Sometimes I thing that the Outers traded power for flexibility. Especially…moral flexibility. One way or another, they always demanded absolutes.

"But in the end," she added, "the one Michiru sacrificed was herself, to save others. And in a way, she saved herself, too. Perhaps Endymion was right; she found the answers she was looking for. Perhaps she learned something from Serenity…"

Venus did not answer for some time. She stood looking out of the window, down at the sea of crystites that surrounded the palace. At last she said, "I've been thinking about it, you know. About doing it myself."

Mars caught her breath. "You—Mina-chan, no!"

"I mean, wouldn't it be worth it?" Venus insisted. "If it meant I could destroy all their forces—save all those people—wouldn't that be worth it? Wasn't it worth it, in the end, what Michiru did?"

"No," said Mars softly.

"No," agreed Venus. She seemed to sag for a moment. "I thought about it a little more, and…it wouldn't work, would it?"

"No," said Mars again. "Michiru was driven to an extraordinary level of desperation. She was close to being able to change even without the power she stole. You don't have that…that need for justification. I think the power would simply kill you."

"Even if I had a source of power to break," Venus added. "And even then…if I destroyed another army, what would be the point? You said it yourself: we haven't seen a twentieth of the crystites in Japan alone. The Enemy'd just send more, and you'd be right where you are now, only without me."

"A poor trade," said Mars, carefully not smiling.

"Hey, yeah!" Venus brightened momentarily, then became solemn once more. "Anyway, we've evacuated the city. The only people left are volunteers. We should be able to hold the Palace for as long as we need, until Ami finds a way to shield Serenity."

Mars nodded. There was no need to point out the obvious. Deliberately changing the subject, she said, "Speaking of the evacuation—do you know if Higoshi-san and her children got out safely?"

"Yes. Three days ago. I made sure of that myself." Venus sighed. "I think they'll be safe. Not like the rest of us." She smiled, a little sadly. "Her line, at least, will continue."

They fell silent. There seemed little left to say. At last Venus sighed, and said, "We'd better get back to work. Colonel Shitsuji said he had everything organised, but there's probably a million things going wrong anyway…"

They shared a quick smile, and turned to go. At that moment, the alarms started to go off.

- - -

At first, the crystites tried simply breaking their way through. But the Palace defences had been carefully planned, long ago. The Nemesis invasion had taught Crystal Tokyo a lot, and Crystal Tokyo had not been slow to apply those lessons. If, in the centuries since then, the city had lowered its guard, the Palace had not. When it needed to be, it was palace and fortress both.

So the walls were layered and shaped to reflect physical force back upon itself; and the blows that the crystites directed against them did more damage to the attackers than to the walls.

So every centimetre of the exterior of the Palace was ray-shielded; and the energy bolts that the Blue Crystites aimed at it were caught, and twisted, and bent back again.

So, one by one, each attack failed; and all the while, the defenders inside the palace kept the crystites under a withering rain of fire. The enemy fell by tens and hundreds.

But there were always more to come.

Shortly after noon, they changed their tactics. The Blue Crystites slowly withdrew, and gathered together outside the main entrance. For a long time, they simply stood there, motionless, their eyes closed as if in thought. It was as if they were conferring. The defenders directed all their fire at them; but they ignored it completely. This close to Serenity and the Ginzuishou, the Senshi's force shield was useless; but the crystites' still worked perfectly.

Then a ripple of change swept over them. One by one, their eyes opened. They glowed a pale blue. One crystite stirred, and stepped forward. It marched unhurriedly up to the doors, held out one massive hand, and touched them.

Something like a spark leaped from its fingertip to the door; something tiny, motelike, but so bright that it was blinding. There was a sound like distant thunder. Almost imperceptibly, the doors quivered.

The Blue Crystite that had touched the door froze, and then—in less than a second—crumbled away into dust.

The remaining crystites showed no reaction. Moments later, a second one of them stirred to life, and marched forward. It touched the doors without hesitation. With a second flash and a thunderclap, it too became dust. And the doors quivered again.

One by one, they marched forward to their own dissolution. One by one, they touched the doors in turn. And with each touch, the doors shook a little more. By the twelfth crystite, they were quivering almost constantly. By the eighteenth, their rattling was becoming audible. By the twenty-third, they were bucking and flexing like live things.

The next crystite stepped forward. And the next.

- - -

Mercury and Jupiter were stationed at the front gates—perhaps the weakest point of the Palace's defences. They were busy checking over the gate defence systems when the soldiers stationed at the doorway called. Mercury dropped everything and came at a run, Jupiter at her heels. By the time they got there, the entrance hall was filled with a low rumbling sound; the floor was pulsing and shaking, and the doors—

"What are they _doing_?" Jupiter blurted out. At her side, Mercury frowned, but did not speak; she quietly dropped her visor over her eyes, and began to scan the doors with her computer. Her expression was grim.

One of the soldiers, a slender, grim-faced young woman, answered Jupiter. "It started just a few minutes ago. At first we thought they were trying to bash their way in again, but then—"

"It's some kind of harmonic effect," Mercury reported. Her fingers flew over her computer. "It's concentrated in the doors, but I don't see what they're—the defence grid is supposed to—"

The floor rocked, and she almost lost her balance. She continued to type furiously.

"Harmonic effect?" said Jupiter, looking confused. "You mean, like sympathetic vibrations? Are they trying to make the palace vibrate until it shatters—"

"No," Mercury said impatiently. "The palace structure is too inhomogeneous, it couldn't—never mind that now, I have to—" She stopped suddenly. "I think I see," she breathed. "They're feeding energy into the doors—they're setting up a kind of standing wave, a resonance loop—but if that's so, then—"

She froze. Her eyes widened.

"Jupiter, call the others," she ordered crisply. "Everyone, fall back. Now."

As the soldiers obeyed, puzzled and beginning to be afraid, she stepped forward and raised her hands. Ice began to cover the door. It was only a thin shell at first, barely visible. Then, faster and faster, it began to thicken.

"Ami-chan, are you—" began Jupiter worriedly.

Mercury's face was tense, taut with concentration. The ice on the door was nearly a metre thick. "Ice is a crystal, too," she ground out. "If I can add enough mass—fast enough to change the resonance patterns before they—"

The soldier who had spoken before hurried back to her side, saying urgently, "Ma'am, Colonel Nagumo says there'll be reinforcements here in two minutes…"

Mercury glanced over at her quickly. There was sweat on her brow; the effort she was making was clear. The ice continued to build under her hands. "All right," she gasped. "I think I can hold it that long…if I just—"

There was a sound of thunder.

The doors burst inward with a roar. Daggers of ice and crystal filled the air. The last thing Sailor Mercury saw was a splinter of ice, a metre long and razor-sharp, coming toward her like an arrow.

- - -

Sailor Jupiter saw Mercury fall with a spear of ice through her, sticking out from her back. She screamed in horror and ran toward her, but another explosion threw her off her feet. By the time she could stand again, there was only a huge pile of rubble and ice fragments where Mercury had fallen. One pale hand, bloody and still, protruded from the wreckage.

The crystites marched into the Palace.

Jupiter shouted something incoherent and attacked them. Beside her, the soldiers opened fire. Then, suddenly, Venus and Mars were there too. A blaze of lightning and fire and light drove the crystites back for a moment, and Jupiter broke away and ran to the rubble pile; but by the time she got there, there was no pulse in that hand, and the skin was already turning cold.

She knelt there, holding that still hand and weeping in horror and grief, unable to accept that Sailor Mercury, gentle Mizuno Ami, was dead, until an urgent warning shout from Venus roused her. At the same time, a shadow fell across her. She looked up in shock; she started to roll to one side, away from the blow; but it was far, far too late. A massive crystal fist shattered her skull.

The enemy advanced.

- - -

Luna found Artemis in a corridor just outside the Throne Room. The air was filled with the sound of shouts and screams, gunfire and distant explosions. The chaos had yet to penetrate this far into the Palace, but it was clear now that it was only a matter of time.

"You've got to save Diana," Luna told him.

Artemis stared at her incredulously. "I've got to—? Luna, what are you talking about? You can't just ask me to—"

He faltered as it sunk in. She _was_ asking.

He tried again. "How can you even think that I'd…" And again, he trailed off. Luna was talking about his daughter. _Their_ daughter. "Diana," he breathed. "Luna, what the hell? I thought she was evacuated a long time ago—I haven't even seen her for weeks—"

"She's still here," said Luna carefully. "She hasn't been getting around much, just lately."

"But—" Artemis fumbled for the words. "Luna, you know I can't. If she stayed, she…she knew the risks. I won't blame her if she leaves on her own, but—I—you, you can't ask me to abandon the others! You can't ask me to run away, Luna! I can't—"

"You have to," Luna told him fiercely. "You have to save her, Artemis!"

He shook his head wildly. "But—" he began.

"Because she's pregnant."

"She—" He stared at her, stunned. "What?"

"The child is due in just a few days," said Luna. Her voice was calm, but there was a furious intensity in her eyes. "Diana is in no condition to leave on her own. She was supposed to have gone to safety three weeks ago, but this morning I found out that she stayed anyway. And now, it's too—"

"But," he fumbled, "how—? Who—?"

"There's no _time_ to argue about it!" she burst out, frustrated. "You have to! You're the only one who can do this!"

"You could do it yourself," he objected. Then, with a sudden chill, he saw the truth. "You could, but you won't," he said flatly. "So you picked me—"

"Because you _will_," she said. "If you have to." Under his accusing gaze, she crouched down, her hackles rising. There was only firm, cold determination in her eyes. "I'll _never_ leave Serenity," she hissed. "Never!"

"Because she's your other child," Artemis whispered. "Your firstborn."

"That's right," Luna snarled. "That's exactly right."

He backed away a little from the rage in her eyes. "Then I don't suppose I have any choice, do I?" he asked, defeated.

Her anger seemed to retreat a little. "No," she said, "you don't."

He had to look away. "All right," he said. "All right. I'll go. Tell me where to find her—"

Luna gave him quick directions to a little-used section of the Palace, at the rear, close to the Guard headquarters. As he prepared to go, she said, "Take care of her, Artemis. And give her my love."

He nodded dumbly, realising that she did not expect to see him again. He stepped forward, touched noses with her one last time. Luna: friend, sometimes lover, companion of a thousand years. Good-bye.

As he turned to go, he heard her mutter, "Damn, but I hate doing this." He looked back, and saw her change. She shimmered, and her body stretched, reshaped itself. A young woman with black hair and a golden crescent moon on her forehead bent down to pick up a portable railgun that had been lying on the floor nearby. He saw her step out past the corner at the end of the corridor, crouch down, and open fire on the enemy.

He saw a whirling cloud of crystal shards rip her head from her body.

With a sob, he looked away, and ran to find his daughter.

- - -

So it came to an ending.

Sailor Venus, Sailor Mars and King Endymion made their last stand before the twin thrones. In the bubble behind them, Queen Serenity floated, her eyes wide open, staring sightlessly out at the enemies that poured into the Throne Room, and the lone trio who remained to defend her.

They fought with a brilliance born of desperation. But they were constrained by their surroundings, and by the necessity of defending the Queen. One by one, the trio fell.

Sailor Mars was hit in the leg by an energy bolt from one of the Blue Crystites. She staggered and would have fallen, but before she could hit the ground another crystite was upon her, four fists lashing out at once. The sound of bones breaking was horribly loud. Mars flew backward and struck the wall with an audible crunch, and slid limply to the floor. Blood spilled from her open mouth.

Sailor Venus fought on, last of the Senshi as she had been first. She was a blonde dervish; she kicked and leaped and spun, her every motion swift and clean, striking another enemy with every attack. But six Blue Crystites shot her at once, and she could not evade the crossfire. Her whole body lit up with the energy that poured into her; she seemed to hang suspended in mid-air. The body that hit the floor was a charred ruin.

And lastly there was Endymion, alone before his beloved. He fought on for longer than anyone might have expected; but in the end they brought him down. An energy bolt shattered his armour; a crystal foot broke his sword. His roses claimed a dozen more of them yet, before the end; but then one of them caught him by the throat, and crushed it. As he fell, a foot kicked out and smashed his chest.

Queen Serenity screamed.

- - -

When the enemy broke into her palace, her eyes opened. Nobody saw it; her head was bowed forward, her eyes in shadow. But she felt it; she felt the invasion, and slowly, she began to be drawn back to herself.

She had fought for so long already. She had wrestled with the Enemy, endlessly, for more than two months. With dogged determination she had blocked every attack, denied every attempt. She had bound her own life to that of the Ginzuishou; she had made it part of herself. Unheeding of what was going on around her, unaware of anything but the necessity of preventing the Enemy from possessing the crystal, she had sealed herself away, denying the invading force any access to what it sought. But now, she felt the invader drawing nearer and nearer in spite of all her efforts. She opened her senses, and she felt:

She felt Mercury be buried by falling rubble, the icy spear protruding from her back. She felt Jupiter's sudden end, and Luna's. She felt the death of every last defender in the Palace. She was in torment. She saw the enemy enter her Throne Room. She saw Rei fall; she saw Venus burn. But when she saw what they did to her husband, she could contain the anguish no longer.

She screamed. And in her hands, the Ginzuishou flamed.

It was a cry of protest, of anguish, of utmost extremity. Her pain, her loss, her ultimate rejection of this end blazed pure and clean within her. The crystal flared in her hands, incandescent. She called upon its utmost power. Unheeding of the destruction about her, she invoked life.

The Throne Room blazed with light. The shell around her blinked out of existence in an instant; in another moment, the crystites in the Throne Room became dust. Still the light spread. It filled the palace; it spread beyond. The streets of Crystal Tokyo became luminous rivers.

With a howl of frustrated fury, the Enemy broke away, unable to tolerate that deadly light.

Serenity lowered her hands, and the power ebbed away. Slowly, she got to her feet. She looked around the Throne Room and saw what had become of her people.

- - -

Artemis saw it end.

He had found Diana and carried her to safety, taking human form to lift her. He made his way out of the Palace through the link to the underground Archives complex; but once he had found a safe place to hide her he returned to the Palace, running like a madman, dodging and weaving past the enemy in cat form once more.

He reached the throne room just in time to see Minako fall. On top of Luna's death, it was almost more than he could take. Life-long companions, each of them, and in less than an hour he had lost them both.

Then Endymion died, and he saw Serenity's transfiguration.

As the light died away, the Queen stood and looked around the Throne Room. He heard her gasp in horror at the sight. He saw her steel her shoulders and step forward to confront the worst.

She knelt briefly, and touched the shoulders of her three fallen defenders. Then, silently, she rose and walked out of the Throne Room. Her eyes were dry, but there was a look of such grief and loss on her face that Artemis could hardly bear to see it. He fell in behind her, following her as she walked through the corridors of the Palace. She glanced back at him once, but did not speak.

At the doors of the Palace, she stopped, and looked out over her city, and saw what had been done to it. She buried her face in her hands and wept.

"Your Majesty…" said Artemis painfully.

"Who did this, Artemis?" she whispered. "Who did this thing?"

"We never knew," he answered wearily. He told her what had happened, from Usagi's death to the fall of the Palace gates. He spoke briefly, but he left nothing important out. "We never even found out why," he finished in a low voice. "They just attacked and attacked, and we never even found out _why_."

"No. I understand." She looked out across the smoking ruins of the city. "Is—is there anyone left? Anywhere?"

He nodded. "Yes. Some. We managed to evacuate a few of the people. And there are still survivors elsewhere in the world. Most people weren't affected by the Glass Plague. A lot—some of them should still be alive."

"Then there is hope for the future." Serenity drew a deep breath. "Thank you, Artemis. I—I want you to go now."

"What?" He stared at her, hurt. "Serenity, no! I can't—" He broke off. "Why does everyone think I'm ready to run away and abandon the people I love?" he asked bitterly.

"No! It's not like that!" she exclaimed. He looked up at her, startled, and saw with a chill just how pale her face was, and how drained she looked.

"Don't you see, Artemis?" she said. "Someone has to carry on. It's going to have to start over now, just…just like it did before. Someone will have to find them all, and show them who they are. Teach them about their heritage."

"No—" he protested. "You can't…ask me to go through that all over again…"

"Who else is there?" she asked gently. She held up the Ginzuishou, glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. Her hand looked almost transparent. "I bound myself to it too closely, Artemis. I don't have much time left." She gave a faint smile. "Just enough to finish what I have to, perhaps.

"I'm going to do it again," she told him. "Send them forward. I won't let them die like this. I won't _allow_ it to end this way. The cycle will turn, Artemis; they'll live again, someday, and you'll find them, and teach them to be themselves again."

She gave a sweet, sad smile. "And this time, Small Lady will be their Moon Princess. Be good to them, Artemis. Take care of my daughter."

"Serenity—"

"Well, I can hardly send _myself_ forward, can I?" she asked reasonably. "Besides, I have other things I have to do.

"There's an Enemy down there, underground. And once I've saved my people, we two will have one more contest. And we shall see who is the stronger, then."

He bowed his head. "Your Majesty," he said. Acceptance, acknowledgement, and farewell…with love.

"Go on, now," she said. "This Palace won't be safe once the battle begins."

"You were never my daughter," he said with difficulty. "But you were _hers_. Goodbye…Tsukino Usagi."

She nodded, and smiled that gentle, glorious smile. And Artemis turned away and left the Queen in the ruins of her city, and went to do her bidding.

- - -

He looked back, one last time, as he made his way away from the Palace. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something moving. He turned his head, but saw nothing. Then something caught the sun with a cold sparkle, and he saw.

Crystites. More of them. A party of at least twenty. Heading toward the Palace.

Without hesitation, he turned and started back. One last desperate race. Somehow, even as he ran, he knew he would not be in time.

Serenity was standing on the steps of the Crystal Palace. Her head was lowered, her face taut with effort. The power of the Ginzuishou was gathering about her. She was lost in concentration; all her senses were elsewhere. Reaching out, gathering in the souls of those she loved.

She was still at work, pouring all her spirit, all her love, into the crystal, when the invaders ran her through.

- - -

It was the evening of June 30th, 3478.

Happy fifteen hundredth birthday, Queen Serenity.

- - -

**Afterward**

Hino Rei awoke in darkness and pain.

She reached out a hand, and even that small motion was agony. Her chest felt as though it was full of broken glass. Everything else hurt too; her back felt as though she had been beaten with a baseball bat, and there was a horrible, burning pain in her leg. But her chest was the worst. There was a foul taste in her mouth, and after a while she realised that it was blood.

Coughing up blood was a pretty bad sign, she remembered. Well, Ami would be able to take care of her.

Then she remembered that Ami was dead.

She wasn't Sailor Mars any more, for some reason. If she transformed, then at least the accelerated healing should help. She steeled herself and made the familiar mental effort that should have triggered her change. Nothing happened.

_Too weak to do it,_ she thought muzzily. She felt around gingerly, and found her henshin wand lying nearby. Somehow, even in the darkness, she knew where it was.

"Mars Crystal Power, Make-up," she whispered. And again, nothing happened.

She tried the other variations—Star Power, and plain old Mars Power. Neither of them did anything at all. After some hesitation, she even tried for Eternal Power. Still nothing.

Tired, confused, and in a great deal of pain, she managed to lever herself up onto her hands and knees, and then to her feet. There was a little light filtering in from the windows high in the east wall. The sun was just rising, she realised. What day was it?

The light, slowly growing, revealed things she would rather not have seen. Venus' body, and Endymion's.

Serenity was not there, she saw with a flash of hope.

Slowly, haltingly, she made her way through the Palace. The building was half in ruins. On her way, she saw Jupiter's body, and was surprised to find that even that saddened her, for all the bad blood that there'd been between them in the last few years.

A dim red-gold light was spreading across the city as she emerged into the open air. On the Palace steps, she found Queen Serenity.

Crying was new agony, but she cried for a long time. She wanted to bury the Queen, but she could not even manage to lift her body. In the end, she had to leave her lying there, and that was worse than anything else.

Eventually, she thought to look for the Ginzuishou, but it was nowhere to be found.

The streets of Crystal Tokyo were filled with crystites, lying silent and motionless. It looked as though they had simply fallen over and turned to glass. She kicked one, and it broke into pieces with a faint clink. She gave a thin, rusty laugh.

Alternately crying and laughing, half-mad with grief and pain, Hino Rei staggered away from the palace, into a dark future.

**-**

* * *

**THIRD TOKYO  
4200 CE**

* * *

**-**

For a long time after Itsuko's voice fell silent, nobody said a word. The room was darkened, and everyone's face was half in shadow. Somehow, as they had listened, most of the day had gone by.

At last Artemis said quietly, "So there you have it."

Still nobody else spoke. Itsuko sat back from the table, looking out of the window, a curiously pensive look on her face. Miyo had her hands in her lap, and was staring at them fixedly.

The silence was broken at last as Suzue took a long, deep breath. She bit her lip, and then said, "You never defeated the Great Enemy."

"No," said Itsuko, without turning.

"You never found out who it was."

"No," echoed Miyo. She did not look up.

"You never even knew why you were being attacked."

"No," said Artemis. He could not meet her eyes.

"How—" Suzue broke off, looking around the three. "How can you _stand_ it?" she demanded.

None of them answered at once. At last, Itsuko turned to face her and said quietly, "It's different for Miyo. But Artemis and I—" She looked over at the cat, but he shook his head. "We live," she finished sadly. "We live."

"We work," said Artemis.

She nodded, looking grateful for the correction. "Yes. There's that. We work…" Her voice grew firmer as she spoke, echoing words that she had once spoken to Artemis: "We survive. We remember. And just maybe, if we can…we act." She stared at them all defiantly. "I may have lost my powers, I may have outlived her by seven centuries, but I am _still_ in the service of my Queen. I failed her once before, but I will not do so again."

Miyo looked up at her, shocked. "Rei…" she breathed. "How can you say that? You didn't fail her—you would have given your _life_ for her—"

"Then why am I alive, and she dead?" asked Itsuko simply.

"No! You can't blame yourself for that! It wasn't your fault!"

"Nevertheless." But after a moment Itsuko sighed. "In any case, it doesn't matter," she said. "Because now, there's a second chance."

She looked around the room. "Now that you're all here—" She lifted a hand to indicate the five of them. "Now, perhaps we have hope again. Perhaps you can finish what we could not."

Iku looked appalled. "We're going to fight…_that_?" she asked. A moment later, she looked shocked at the sound of her own voice.

Beth nodded in agreement. "An enemy that defeated all the old Senshi combined?"

"But it's different now, don't you see?" exclaimed Artemis. "Back then, the Enemy was so powerful because it controlled crystal, and the whole world _ran_ on crystals. But now, none of that works any more! Nearly everything today is based on twenty-first century technology from the Archives. Most of the Enemy's power is gone! And there aren't any people left that it can transform into its tools. It's got to be a hundred times weaker than before, a thousand! It—"

"I'm not so sure about that," said Suzue.

"What?" Artemis rounded on her indignantly. "But it has to be weaker! Otherwise it'd already have—"

Suzue seemed to wilt under his glare. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "Forgive my presumption, Artemis-sama."

Artemis came to a sudden halt. "Er, what?" he said. He glared at her. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to be funny?" he asked suspiciously.

Suzue's eyes grew large. "I would never—"

Miyo laughed. "She's got you, Artemis. Why don't you try _listening_ to her? Don't let him bully you, Suzue-san."

"Err…" Suzue hesitated for a moment longer, but then said diffidently, "You said that there aren't any people left that the Great Enemy can transform. But that can't be true, can it?"

"Oh! You mean Lady Blue and her toys." Artemis thought it over. "But she actually has a crystal shard embedded in her skull. And the vitrimorphs could be entirely artificial; actually, from the shapes some of them have taken, that's pretty likely."

"I'm not so sure," Suzue said again. "I was thinking of what you told us about that thing that Sailor Venus fought, down in the pit. That wasn't a crystite. It was a vitrimorph—wasn't it?"

"What?" said Itsuko, startled. Miyo said, "Huh?" at the same moment.

Artemis seemed just as taken aback. "I—I don't—" he fumbled. At last he admitted, "Actually, I never got all that good a look at it. Minako was the one who fought it up close…"

Miyo glanced quickly at Beth.

"It could be, I suppose," the cat went on grudgingly. "The description she gave me later _is_ pretty close. It never even occurred to me before—there was only ever the one of them, and it was all over so quickly…"

"But it does tie together," Miyo breathed. "Which would mean that somewhere in Third Tokyo, somebody's taking human beings and…" She shuddered suddenly. "Damn! I never really saw the thing, back then; I was stuck up at the top of the pit. The most I saw of it was the flash when Mina-chan shot it, and then when it blew up."

"That flash," said Beth thoughtfully. "I remember—hey, obaasan, back at the department store, when you shot the vitrimorph that was trying to kill me, it glowed, too."

"Don't call me—" Miyo began automatically, before giving up. "Yes, but the one down in the pit in 3478 was _already_ glowing, even before Venus shot it."

"It glowed brighter after she shot it, though," Artemis put in. "A lot brighter."

"So…they absorb energy?" suggested Dhiti. "But my Ice Spear doesn't make them glow. Neither does Venus' Love-Me Whoozis. So—" She broke off. "Wait. That Music of the Spheres thing didn't do it either."

"But Suzue-san's attack is a sonic one," pointed out Itsuko. "That's an entirely different type of energy."

"Radiant energy…and electrical energy," mused Suzue. "I wonder what would happen if Sailor Mars attacked one."

"Just a few sparks," said Bendis. "But then, her attacks are so low- powered anyway—" She cut off suddenly at a look from Artemis. Iku was completely expressionless.

"So what are you saying?" Miyo asked Suzue.

"They absorb energy—but only if it's in an easily-convertible form," Suzue answered. "The one back in 3478 might have been glowing to start with because the city was filled with the power of the Ginzuishou."

Dhiti shot her a dark look. "Maybe you should have the damn computer instead of me," she muttered. Suzue blinked, then shrugged.

"What does it all mean, though?" asked Beth plaintively.

"The Enemy controls crystal," said Artemis slowly. "When Serenity died, crystal power stopped working, and all the crystites died too. But the vitrimorphs run on some other kind of energy—maybe they weren't used much during the Fall because crystal energy was so much more plentiful?"

"But what kind of power?" asked Beth. "Maybe if we could find a way to block it…"

"Planet power," said Iku in a low voice.

"Star power," suggested Dhiti. A half-forgotten voice whispered in her memory: _Everything is governed by the stars…_ She shivered.

"Our power," said Miyo grimly. "When I shoot them, they get stronger. That one in the theatre didn't start firing energy bolts until after I hit it."

"Planet power, star power…and crystal power too?" wondered Suzue. She grimaced. "They seem especially designed to fight us."

"I'm beginning to think," said Miyo, "that it's been us all along."

**-**

* * *

**-**

The setting sun shone through the windows of the chairman's office, on the fourth floor of the Council Chambers. The chairman ignored it, as he ignored the view through the windows. 'C' Division regulations limited the height of buildings in the district around the Chambers, so the view was rather good. Still, he had other things to think about.

He was chairman of the Serenity Council; and whatever other, less public functions the Council had, he was still the leader of Japan, the most powerful nation in the world. There was a lot of work that went with the job, and he performed it punctiliously.

Wearily, he turned another page of the report: a lengthy monstrosity from 'F' Division on tariffs. When the computer on his desk pinged, it was a welcome distraction. He reached out with one gloved hand and turned the screen on. He stiffened when he saw who the message was from.

Three minutes later, he picked up his commset mobile and punched in a number. It buzzed for some time, before being answered with a sudden clatter. A voice at the other end said, "Yes?"

"It's me," said the chairman easily. "I've just had a report back from M. It seems that our crashed Opal was the victim of sabotage."

"Oh?" said the other.

"Very cleverly and subtly done, M says." The chairman smiled. "I've sent you on a copy of the report. I thought that perhaps you'd like to look into it personally."

"I'll do that," said Number Twelve.

**-**

* * *

**-**

The meeting wound on. The eight of them argued back and forth, but without reaching any more conclusions. After a while, seeing that the rest of them were getting tired and starting to lose their tempers, Itsuko excused herself and left. A few minutes later she called them through to the living room with an offer of food, and the discussion came to an abrupt end. For a while the suite became silent, except for the sound of chewing and the sipping of drinks.

"We still have to decide what to do about this Council offer," Itsuko announced, a little later. The others groaned at her, but she persisted. "They want to meet with the Senshi. The question is, do you want to do it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Beth.

"No," said Bendis.

The two glared at each other.

"Glad we got _that_ cleared up," murmured Dhiti.

Miyo sighed. "Seriously, though," she said.

"Well, what do you want?" complained Dhiti. "They say they want to help us. That could be good. But…" She shrugged. "Are they going to want to know our real names?"

"What _else_ will they want?" put in Artemis.

"I don't want them to find out my real name," said Iku in a small voice.

"I don't want anything to do with the Council," said Suzue flatly.

Beth blinked at her. "But don't they have a…a kind of _right_ to know who we are?" she asked. "I mean, they _are_ the Serenity Council."

"Just because they call themselves that doesn't mean anything," said Artemis. Itsuko caught his eye at that moment and gave a tiny shake of her head. It took him a moment to understand. Let the young ones make their own decision, she was saying. He thought about it, then nodded back.

"They do say they're ruling in the name of the Queen, and until her return," said Miyo thoughtfully. "They have the Swearing-In ceremony every year."

"That still doesn't mean anything," argued Dhiti. "Geez, Hayashi, _politics_!"

"_I_ don't trust them," said Bendis darkly.

"You just think every Serry is after your neck," said Beth.

"Well, maybe they are!" snapped Bendis. "Remember that Opal that chased us! Did _that_ seem so friendly to you?"

Beth flinched, almost unnoticeably. "But that was different," she said. "Wasn't it?" She sounded uncertain now. "I mean—you can understand why they'd be interested in…" She trailed off.

"It _was_ pretty unfriendly of them," reflected Miyo.

"Unfriendly? They chased us all over the city," said Dhiti. "That was more than unfriendly, Hayashi. I'm with Bendis on this one. If they wanted to find out more about us, they could have stuck their heads out and said hi, or invited us to a clambake or something."

At her side, unnoticed, Iku mouthed the word 'clambake'.

"It could just have been the officer in charge of the Opal, though," said Miyo reasonably. "The Chairman did say the Council wants to help us."

"So you think we should talk to them?" asked Beth.

Miyo hesitated, then said, "Perhaps the real question is, _can_ the Council help us? Or would we be better off working on our own?"

Dhiti looked interested. "I hadn't thought about it like that," she said. "After all, the vitrimorphs are coming after _us_. It's not as though they're laying siege to the city again."

"It's…our business, not theirs?" suggested Beth. She looked unconvinced, but she was beginning to waver.

"Sure!" said Dhiti. "The Serries probably just want us for publicity, or something. Get their pictures taken with the Sailor Senshi. Next thing you know, it'll be product endorsements." A glint appeared in her eye. "'Hi there! My name is Sailor Mercury. But sometimes, when I'm out fighting evil, the monsters just don't recognise me. That's why I always carry…Henshin Card!'" She struck a pose. "'Don't fight youma without it.' Or maybe—"

Miyo shuddered. "Please. I've been through that once before, and it wasn't any fun at all."

Dhiti smirked. "Could be worse, Hayashi. I mean—what if they want us to take power, or something? Start up a new Silver Millennium for them?"

Suzue looked shocked. "That would be…that would be blasphemy!" she burst out. "To usurp the throne of the ble—of Queen Serenity—you can't think that we'd—"

"Well, we couldn't, could we?" said Beth logically. "Not without Sailor Moon, anyway."

"That's not funny!" Suzue insisted.

Beth stared at her. "What? It wasn't meant to be a—"

"Look, let's not go over that _again_," put in Miyo. "We don't have a Sailor Moon, and we don't know if we're _going_ to have a Sailor Moon. Serenity and Princess Usagi both died, and it's hard to see how either of them could be reborn, when the Princess died so long before the end. But with or without an heir to the throne, we still have a job to do."

She looked around them all firmly. "We—the eight people in this room now—may be the last remains of the Moon Kingdom. Or we could be the start of something new. For now…let's not get distracted, huh?"

Beth looked up at her doubtfully. "You think talking to the Council _would_ be just a…distraction?" she asked.

"We can be celebrities, or we can get on with our work," Miyo replied flatly. "Think about it."

Beth hung her head, looking a little sheepish. "Maybe you're right," she admitted in a low voice.

There was a low murmur of agreement from the others. Most of them looked relieved.

Itsuko cleared her throat. "Is that your decision?" she asked quietly. "You'd rather not get involved in, well, public affairs?"

She ran her eyes around the table. One by one, they all nodded. Itsuko gave a quick, satisfied nod of her own. "All right," she said. "Let me take care of telling the Council, then. I think I can manage to do it quietly, without giving anything away."

More nods came from all around the table. In their wake, though, an uneasy silence fell. Suddenly, nobody seemed to know what to say. Miyo sat back, muttering something in Artemis' ear. Beth, Suzue and Iku just sat there, looking awkward. Dhiti sighed to herself. _Guess it's up to me to save the day again,_ she thought with wry resignation. She opened her mouth to say something outrageous—

—And let out a startled squawk as something warm and furry landed in her lap, hard. She sat bolt-upright, reaching out to push whatever it was away, and found her hands encircling…Bendis?

The cat ignored her completely, stretched out her neck, and took another mouthful from Dhiti's plate.

Beth began to snicker.

"And what," asked Dhiti frostily, "do you think you're doing?"

"Well, _you_ weren't eating it," Bendis pointed out. She took another bite.

"No, but I would have!" Dhiti protested. "Look, you can't just go around helping yourself to other peoples' food!"

"Why not? I _am_ a cat, you know."

"But—but—" Dhiti couldn't believe it. She was playing straight man to a cat. "Why pick on me?" she asked plaintively. "What's wrong with stealing Beth's food, anyway?"

"Beth won't let me," said Bendis reasonably, not lifting her eyes from Dhiti's plate.

The girl glanced across the table. Sure enough, Beth was keeping a close eye on Bendis. She was also laughing openly at Dhiti. So were all the others.

"We'll see about that," Dhiti said firmly. She reached out and stole a rice ball from Beth's plate, popping it into her mouth and chewing quickly. For good measure, she took one from Miyo, too.

Beth and Miyo both yelped very gratifyingly…and the rumble was on.

There wasn't enough food left for a really satisfying food fight, unfortunately, but they did their best. Suzue turned out to be a demon shot, pelting all the others indiscriminately while managing to dodge almost all the return fire. Bendis dodged in and out of the rumpus, stealing food right and left and jumping up to catch titbits in mid-air. Even Artemis joined in, eventually. Only Itsuko and Iku stayed clear. The one time Dhiti tried to take anything from Iku's plate, Iku simply sat back and let her, a look of weary resignation on her face.

Eventually the food supply petered out, and the girls collapsed back to the floor, laughing and chattering. From the look on Itsuko's face, it wasn't nearly soon enough. But as it turned out, the rumpus was far from over.

The fight had succeeded in changing the mood completely. Somehow, the evening became more of a party than a Senshi meeting. Miyo got up to put some music on, and the talk and the laughter became a lot wilder and freer. More plates of food materialised from somewhere.

Dhiti tried dancing to the music, but gave it up when nobody else showed any interest in joining in. Instead, she and Miyo organised an impromptu Limbo contest. This proved to be different enough to get them all interested, and in the end, everyone had a try; and lo, there was much flexing of limbs and bruising of rears. (Dhiti won, but rather to everyone's surprise, Iku came second.)

And later—parental permission for a late evening having been sought, and granted—there was time to lounge back and sip tea and gossip, about nothing in particular, and about anything under the sun. So they talked about hobbies: Beth and her tramping and rock-climbing; Miyo's plants and her cooking; Suzue's love of fashion, and an unexpected passion for Bridge; and Dhiti and her general determination to try everything the world had to offer.

After a while, somehow the subject of boyfriends came up. Suzue admitted that she had been seeing a boy for several months now, and Beth shyly talked about a boy at her school. Miyo tried to deny any interest in men, but Dhiti insisted on telling the others about Mark.

"Why don't you tell them about your _own_ boyfriend?" Miyo retaliated at last, before Dhiti could start into the slug story, or worse.

Dhiti pouted. "Unfair, Hayashi," she complained. "Like I ever have any luck with boys—"

"What about Okura? You went out with him a couple of times." Dhiti started to protest, but Miyo went on to the others, "We never found out what happened, that second time. Kin-chan and me found him running down the road, yelling at the top of his voice—he was covered from head to foot in motor oil—and there was Dhiti-chan running after him, without a single _drop_ on her, shouting 'Come back here and try it again!'" Above the general laughter, Miyo added, "For the next few weeks, he used to turn pale any time he even _saw_ Dhiti-chan…"

"That's not true!" Dhiti protested. "It wasn't—" She stopped, her face darkening. "It wasn't all motor oil," she muttered sheepishly, studying her feet. "Most of it was just mud."

That only made it worse, of course. "What did you _do_?" demanded Beth, laughing so hard that she could hardly speak.

"I can't say," said Dhiti. She brightened suddenly. "I promised I wouldn't," she went on. "Wild badgers couldn't drag it out of me. Threaten me with tweezers, I'll never tell! Ha ha ha! Anyway," she added, "he saw the funny side of it, eventually."

"Oh, yes," said Miyo. "That's what he said. 'It was sort of funny, in a way.' But he was shivering as he said it…"

- - -

Out in the kitchen, Itsuko was talking to Artemis. "I think they'll do very well," she said quietly. "Most of them seem fairly promising. And they respect Miyo, which helps…"

"Not like you and Usagi, eh?" said Artemis teasingly.

She grimaced. "That wasn't _quite_ the same thing," she said. "What I meant was, they know who she is, but they don't seem intimidated by it. That's a relief."

"I can't imagine Dhiti-san being intimidated by anything," murmured Artemis.

"No." Itsuko suppressed a grin.

"She's an odd one, Dhiti," Artemis mused. "She's smart enough; I get the feeling she might even be as smart as Ami. But she doesn't _care_ about it. She's just not interested in…well, the intellectual pursuits. I don't think she's really gotten the hang of her computer yet."

"Not everyone has to be a genius," Itsuko pointed out. "If you're looking for a brain, try Suzue-san. She seems pretty sharp."

"Yes, though she's a bit too serious for her own good. And there's something…odd about her."

"Just her?" Itsuko chuckled. "Which of them _isn't_ there something odd about?"

Artemis snorted. "Well, yes. But she gets…twitchy sometimes. As if there's something she wants to say, but she's afraid to."

"Oh? I hadn't noticed…" Itsuko shrugged, and took a sip of coffee. "The _really_ twitchy one was Iku-san, I thought."

"Yes. I want to have a talk to Bendis about her later—"

The door opened, and Miyo came in. She raised her eyebrows as she saw the two of them. "There you are," she said. "Good. Listen, I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

"About Iku-san, by any chance?" asked Artemis. "We were just talking about her."

"Huh? No. Well, yes, her too, I suppose." Miyo looked flustered. "But there was something I noticed before—about Beth. When she became Sailor Venus."

"Yes?" said Artemis cautiously.

Miyo stared at him for a moment. "Well, you must have noticed how she was acting," she said. "When she came in she was all quiet and nervous, and kind of shy. And then, when she changed—" She waved her arms expressively. "Artemis…do you think…is it possible…that she could be, you know…" She dithered for a moment longer, then said in a rush, "Do you think she could be Minako reborn?"

Artemis blinked. "Minako?" he blurted out. "Miyo, she doesn't look anything like her!"

"I know that!" said Miyo excitedly. "But isn't it possible that…somehow, she got…oh, I don't know!" she burst out. "If she was reborn differently, somehow? I know she's different most of the time, but when she's Venus, she's just so…"

"That's not—" Artemis began.

"I have to say that I was surprised when I met her," put in Itsuko thoughtfully. "Beth is certainly nothing like the Venus I'd been hearing about—or on those viddy reports. It's hard to believe that they're the same person at all."

"You're talking about a split personality," said Artemis, "with the other, well, half of her taking over when she changes? And this other 'half' is Minako reborn? I've never heard of anything like that before."

"But remember, Serenity wasn't able to finish sending us all forward!" Miyo pointed out. "Couldn't that have affected her rebirth?"

"Affected—?" Artemis shook his head. "I have no idea," he admitted.

"Thanks a heap," muttered Miyo.

"You could check, though?" suggested Itsuko.

"It's not that easy," protested Artemis. "Do you think I didn't hope she'd be reborn? I knew Minako better than…better than anybody. Of course I checked! I checked all of you! And you…you're the only one I recognised, Miyo."

"But would you have recognised Minako if she were…well, buried under another personality?" Miyo argued.

Artemis cursed. "How am I supposed to answer that?" he asked. "I would have said that I'd recognise Minako anywhere, in an instant. But from what you're saying…I don't know. I just don't know."

"Maybe if you check her again when she's Venus," said Itsuko.

"But when I touched her earlier, when she changed…" Artemis shook his head. "I didn't feel anything then. Though she might have been—"

There was a sudden crash from the next room, and a shriek of laughter. Itsuko muttered something under her breath, and went to investigate. Miyo and Artemis eyed each other.

"I don't know," repeated Artemis at last. "I'll keep an eye on her. But Miyo, the only way to be sure might be to try to awaken her memories. And you know what happened when I tried that before."

Miyo winced. "All right," she said in a low voice. "We'll watch her, then. If it is her, though…"

She left the sentence hanging. She and Artemis nodded to each other.

- - -

The evening whiled away. Bendis wandered around the suite, cheerfully eavesdropping on conversations and occasionally stealing titbits from unprotected plates. It was all going splendidly. Off in one corner, Dhiti was sprawled out on the floor, chattering away to Iku, who stared back at her as if mesmerised. Dhiti did not seem to find this off-putting; in fact, she seemed delighted to have found a perfect audience. Suzue and Beth were kneeling at the table, talking quietly, apparently comparing schools; they appeared to be mutually envious. Miyo was off in the kitchen, cooking something or other. (Bendis hoped that she'd do some more of those slug things of hers; they were apparently delicious.) Itsuko was sitting by herself, a distant, somehow unapproachable look about her, watching the others with a faint half-smile on her lips. And that was a funny thing; she was alone, and yet, in some indefinable way, she seemed to be the centre of the room, with everyone else revolving around her…

It was a queer thought, and after a moment Bendis decided that it did not make much sense, and put it out of her mind. Instead, she concentrated on the more concrete aspects of the day. All right, so Artemis had caught her; but she seemed to have gotten away with everything anyway. And after all, there were five Senshi now, and they seemed to be getting along well; and really, the whole thing was all thanks to her.

If only she could get Artemis to see it that way.

Humming softly to herself, she started back toward the kitchen. She was pretty full already, but there was always room for a little more—and Miyo, she had discovered, was something of a soft touch.

As she passed Beth and Suzue, she heard them talking about clothes (of all things). She stopped for a moment, startled, when Beth exclaimed, "Really? You make all your own clothes?"

Around the room, the others looked up at the outburst. Suzue flushed, embarrassed, and said, "Well—not all of them. I mean, only a few, really. But I—"

Bendis stopped listening. _Clothes!_ she thought, half-scornfully. _What a waste of time._ But then humans were devoted to so many silly things. At least Beth was better than that, mostly. Actually, in some ways she was getting very promisingly cat-like.

Thinking about Beth brought an unexpected pang. Being separated from the girl, the night before, had been…strange. Upsetting. She had agreed to go with Artemis to save an argument, and because she was pretty sure that she'd have ended up going with him anyway, sooner or later. Better to get it over with; a strictly practical decision. That was the best kind, wasn't it? But still, when Sailor Venus had lost her temper and shouted at Artemis, it had felt…well, good.

She faltered suddenly on her way to the kitchen, then continued on with a new determination. Really, this was ridiculous! She was getting maudlin. The idea that she could form some kind of an…an attachment to a human was ridiculous. She knew where _that_ sort of thing led; nobody better. For heaven's sake, next thing she knew, she'd be going back to Hideo and begging him to stroke her.

And yet…

She found herself remembering peaceful Sunday mornings, dozing lazily in Beth's bed, feeling the girl's warmth at her back. Or sitting in her lap, talking quietly to her, and feeling Beth rub her head in just the right way. Or describing a new manoeuvre to Venus, one that she'd thought up the day before in an idle moment, and watching the girl not only make it work, but do things with it that Bendis herself had never dreamed of. Or the tremendous pride she'd felt watching Venus in action that time at the dressmaker's. Or the sudden horror, just the day before, when Lady Blue had attacked and she'd thought her friend had been killed—

Her friend. Her _friend_.

She mouthed the word over again and again, tasting it in wonder. Her friend. She'd thought that theirs was a teacher-pupil relationship (though there'd been times when she'd wondered which of them was which)—but could it have been something much more basic all along?

She remembered the moment, just a few hours earlier, when she'd brought Iku in, and Beth had picked her up and held her. For a few seconds, then, Bendis hadn't even noticed how loudly she'd been purring.

There was an old-fashioned wall clock in the kitchen. She looked up at it, and noticed with surprise how late it was getting. It had been a long day, all right. She realised that she was looking forward to going home. Home with Beth.

- - -

"Absolutely not," said Artemis. "I'm keeping you right here where I can keep an eye on you."

Bendis stared at him in shock. "What?" she said. "But…why?"

He made an impatient noise. "Do I have to spell it out?"

She felt a familiar sinking feeling in her gut. After all this time, nothing had changed. "You still think I'm a screw-up, don't you?" she asked bitterly. "You still don't think I can…measure up. Geez, didn't I do a good job with Venus?"

"Good job?" said Artemis incredulously. "Are you crazy? You call that a good job? Look at that insane training you've been giving her!"

"Hey, at least I was training her!" she retorted hotly. "What sort of training have _you_ been giving Jupiter, Mercury and Uranus?"

He started to reply, then stopped. Bendis felt a momentary glee as she saw the barb hit home. "Anyway, I think I've done pretty well there," she said proudly. "Beth has come on amazingly. I'd never have believed she could get so good…"

"You're turning her into a cat!" Artemis exploded.

Bendis hesitated. "So what's your point?"

He took a deep breath and let it out again. "Bendis, listen to me," he said slowly. "Humans are not _supposed_ to act like cats."

"I don't see why not," sniffed Bendis. "After all, we're the superior beings. I'm just helping her live up to her potential." She saw his expression and added hastily, "Anyway, it's working, isn't it?"

"What about Mars?" he asked. "Is it working there too?"

"That's not fair!" she protested. "I've only just started! But still…" she added reluctantly, "there's something—I don't know, strange—something seriously wrong with that girl."

"Eh?" Artemis tried to remember. "I know she seems a bit quiet…"

"Heh. You'll see."

"Anyway, that's beside the point," he said firmly. "You've made enough of a mess of things as it is. You do realise that Venus and Mars were nearly killed yesterday because you wanted to run things yourself?" He shook his head. "You simply don't have the knowledge and the training to do this kind of job. Until you learn a little more self-control and get a good deal more experience, you're going to have to—"

"Experience?" she demanded hotly. "Who _found_ all those Senshi? If I hadn't gone to work on my own, we'd still be out there in the alleys, dodging Opals! I've been doing a _good job_ here! _I_ was the one who found Beth and Iku-san—and Suzue-san too, even if you stole her from me—"

"Don't be childish." He glared at her. "Though I suppose that's what I should expect from you—"

"Expect! When did you _ever_ expect anything from me—when did you ever give me a _chance_—?"

"Um, excuse me…"

The two cats looked around. "Yes?" snapped Artemis. Then he saw who it was. "Oh, er, Beth," he said, a little taken aback. "We were just having a, ahh, private—"

"We were talking," said Bendis clearly, "about whether I was going to be allowed to stay with you or not."

There was a sudden silence.

"That was uncalled-for," said Artemis stiffly.

"But—" said Beth. There was shock in her expression, as if she'd been slapped. "But, but…but why not?"

Artemis took another deep breath. "Beth," he said quietly, "I know that you've become attached to Bendis. But you must understand that she is putting you in danger. I don't just mean that insane stunt of hers when she was trying to find out which Senshi you are. There's also the matter of the training she's been giving you—"

"No!" said Bendis urgently. Then, with a note of pleading: "No…"

"Bendis, what—?" began Beth.

"Beth," said Artemis firmly. He gazed up at her for a moment. "Do you trust Bendis?"

She stared at him. "Yes, of course I do," she said, puzzled.

Artemis gave Bendis a quick look. Bendis hung her head, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry to have to break this to you," he said heavily. "Beth, I'm afraid that Bendis has been lying to you. All along. From the day she met you."

Beth blinked. "I know _that_," she said.

"Not only that, she—" Artemis trailed off. "You do?" he said.

"Huh? You _do_?" Bendis said at the same moment.

"Well, of course." Beth seemed surprised by their reactions. "I mean, I noticed she was lying about you right away. She wasn't very good at hiding it. But I could never work out _why_. It always seemed like she was—well, afraid of you or something."

"Afraid?" said Artemis, startled.

"And I worked out that she was just making up most of those training exercises," Beth went on. "But it didn't matter, honestly," she added quickly. "I know Bendis wouldn't hurt me. I…" She hesitated. "I trust her more than anyone else in the world," she finished in a low voice.

"But…" Bendis sounded half-choked. "But _why_?" she asked.

Beth looked down at her, surprised. "Because you're my friend," she said simply.

Bendis gave a queer little half-gasp. "Beth…Beth, I…" She turned suddenly and ran out.

Beth stared after her. "Artemis," she said slowly, "can Moon Cats cry?"

He nodded. His eyes were very wide.

"Oh, boy, I have to find her—" Beth was already running.

Artemis watched her go, half-stunned. "Afraid of me?" he whispered. "No, that's not right. She was just supposed to listen to me. She wasn't supposed to be afraid. She wasn't supposed to be…"

There was a faint sound behind him. He turned, alarmed, to see Itsuko and Miyo watching him. They did not look happy with him. He realised with a sudden chill that they might have been there for some time.

"Is there something," Itsuko suggested, "that you'd like to tell us?"

- - -

It took Beth some time to find Bendis. Eventually she noticed a half-open window in Itsuko's office, and peered out. Bendis was sitting on the fire escape outside, staring down at the city lights below. One ear twitched for an moment as Beth stepped out behind her, but she showed no other reaction.

Beth sat down quietly, a little distance away from Bendis. They watched the lights of passing traffic in silence for several minutes. The evening breeze was warm and humid.

At last Bendis said, almost inaudibly, "Why?"

Beth did not answer in words. She reached out and ran her hand down Bendis' spine, then lifted it up and began to rub the cat's head gently.

"Why?" Bendis repeated. "Why do you trust me? _How_ can you trust me?"

"Because you're my friend," Beth answered, her voice soft and calm. "Because I know that you'd never hurt me."

"I've hurt you a dozen times!" Bendis protested vehemently. "What about all those accidents I caused when I first met you?"

"You weren't hurting me," Beth said calmly. "You were making me into a hero."

"Hero!" Bendis spat. "What does that matter? Nearly everything I've ever told you is a lie. How can you trust _that_?"

"You taught me to fight. You taught me to swing between buildings." Beth smiled in remembrance. "You taught me to save lives. I trust that. That matters."

Bendis hung her head. "_He_ doesn't think so," she murmured bitterly. "He doesn't think I've ever mattered."

Beth did not answer at once. At last she said cautiously, "Bendis…what is it? Why doesn't he—"

She broke off suddenly. In a sudden moment of insight, she realised why the question was so important to Bendis. It was not Beth's trust that the cat yearned for. It was Artemis'.

"Why?" she breathed. "Why doesn't he trust you? Why—why are you two always so angry with each other?"

For a long time she thought that Bendis was not going to answer. But at last the cat said, haltingly, "It was a silly fight in an alley. We argued, and I lost my temper and ran off. Then, when I found you, I thought that maybe I could—"

She stopped and shook her head. "No. It wasn't just an argument. Not _just_ an argument. It was…" She took a deep breath. "All along, he's _never_ trusted me. Not completely. He's never…thought I could measure up. So when I found you, I knew that it was my last chance…maybe my _only_ chance to prove that I could do it, that I could be…"

"Be what?" Beth insisted. "_Why_ doesn't he trust you?"

Bendis swallowed. Almost inaudibly, she said, "Because of my parents."

Beth stared at her. "What?"

"Beth, there's something about me that you ought to know…"

- - -

"Itsuko," said Artemis tightly, "you asked me once how I came to have a great-granddaughter, when there weren't any other Moon Cats left."

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Yes?" she inquired.

He have a short, humourless laugh. "You shouldn't have had to ask. It should have been obvious."

He looked around the room quickly. Having Itsuko and Miyo overhear the argument was bad enough. But then the others had overheard them demanding to know what was happening, and now he was surrounded. The only ones missing were Bendis herself, and Beth. It was, he thought with sudden anger, as if he were being put on trial.

Miyo stirred in her chair. "You said Luna told you that Diana was pregnant when the Palace fell. That was more than I'd ever heard." She wrinkled her brow in thought. "But there were only you three cats in the Palace—" Something in her face changed suddenly. "You didn't—surely you didn't—"

He snorted. "No, I did not. Don't be filthy."

"But then—"

"Diana mated with a human," said Suzue.

Her statement fell into an abrupt silence. Then the room filled with startled yelps and cries. Iku and Miyo stared at Suzue as if looking at a stranger. Dhiti cried out, "What, are you _nuts_?" But in Itsuko's eyes, there was a sudden comprehension.

"Yes," said Artemis wearily.

Suzue only nodded, ignoring the incredulous looks on the others' faces. There was a troubled look on her face, but her voice was steady enough. "How?" she asked. "And who?"

He shrugged. "You know that we can change shape—take human form, for a short time. It's difficult without the aid of the Ginzuishou, but—" He got to his feet, as if about to demonstrate, then thought better of it and sat down again. He looked old and tired in that moment; there were thousands of years in his voice. "I'd never have dreamed it was possible, what she did," he went on, faintly wondering. "The _control_ it must have taken! To keep human form, while doing…that. I know I couldn't do it. But she'd fallen in love, and somehow she found a way to make it work—

"He was one of the Palace Guard, I learned that much. She never would tell me his name, but he must have died when the Palace fell." He sighed. "She met him when Princess Usagi was training with the Guard. After the Princess finished, Diana kept doing to the arena to meet him. In the end, I suppose the inevitable happened."

"But how could she—" began Dhiti.

Itsuko cut her off. "What happened to her?" she asked.

"I got her out of the Palace," Artemis said slowly, his eyes far away. "I remember she cursed me as we left. She didn't want to go; she wanted to be there in case he came back…" He sighed. "I picked her up and carried her out, and she struggled and cursed me all the way. But she couldn't change shape, in her condition. So she had to live on without him…

"The kitten was born five days after the Fall. It was a—difficult birth. Her son was bigger than normal…" He shook his head slowly. "She never really recovered. She got better, for a while, but it left her weak; and afterward, she just faded away." He closed his eyes. "She died four months later. We buried her…just a few kilometres from here, I think."

Nobody spoke for a time. At last Miyo said gently, "You said she had a son?"

Artemis grunted. "Yes," he said. "For what he was worth."

"Ah. I take it you didn't get along with him either."

"He was a wild one." Artemis made a face, remembering. "I think it was his half-human blood. He was moody, unpredictable. Sometimes violent. And sometimes he did…bestial things. I think he decided to hate all humans because he could never be one." His voice grew distant, unhappy. "He might have been content to have been just an ordinary cat, but he couldn't do that either. He was always caught in between…"

"What happened?" asked Itsuko. "How did he die?"

"Hit by a car." Artemis laughed bitterly. "Isn't that the silliest thing? He came to me, two years ago. I hadn't seen him in decades, but he found me somehow. He looked more alive, happier than I'd ever seen him. He kept talking about his daughter. We were on our way to see her, and he—" He stopped, and shuddered. "At least it was quick."

"So you had to bring up Bendis on your own, too," said Dhiti, her voice oddly quiet.

"Yes. And look how well I've managed _there_." He shook his head. "But I couldn't have just left her with her mother. It would have been too cruel."

"Cruel!" Miyo stared at him, shocked. "How can you—"

"No, you don't understand!" he insisted desperately. "It wasn't like that! Miyo, Bendis' mother wasn't…she wasn't human."

"She—" Miyo frowned in incomprehension. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh, no. You don't mean—"

He nodded, and took a deep breath. "She was a cat. She was an ordinary, dumb, tabby, earth cat."

- - -

Beth held Bendis close. The cat was shivering in her arms. "Do you remember her at all?" she asked.

"No," said Bendis tonelessly. "Not a thing. I was so young…I don't think my eyes had even opened yet. I don't know anything about my parents except what he's told me."

Beth could not contain a shiver of her own. "How awful," she said, rather inadequately.

Bendis laughed: a short tinkle, bright and entirely false. "Awful?" she said. "Why? She was just a cat. I can look at any cat in the street and think, my mother was just like that." She laughed again, and shuddered briefly, and Beth realised that she was close to breaking.

"Bendis—"

The cat ignored her; she continued on, speaking faster now, as if she were afraid to stop. "She might even be alive," she said, "out there in some alley somewhere. I could go out and look for her." She tried to laugh once more, but it came out as a gasping, choking sound. "Except what would be the p-point? She wouldn't know me if she saw me. And what…would I have to say…to a…c-c-cat…"

And at last she began to cry, a thin hopeless wail, and Beth held her tightly and rocked her as if she were a baby.

- - -

"I don't _know_ why he did it," Artemis said wearily. "It was the most irresponsible…obscene thing I can imagine. Like…like a human mating with a chimpanzee."

Dhiti made a face. "That's disgusting," she protested.

"But still, it produced Bendis," Suzue pointed out.

"Yes, and look at Bendis!" he snapped back.

Miyo stared at him. "You…you look down on her for it," she realised. "You don't think she's good enough."

"You don't understand," he insisted. "Miyo, Bendis thinks she can do anything, but she can't! Think about it! She's only a quarter Moon Cat. It's a miracle that she can even talk! She'll never be able to take human form. She…she doesn't even have the _time_ we do! Makoto, she's going to live an ordinary earth-cat life-span, and then she'll _die_. If she ever has kittens, they'll be little more than earth cats themselves; they'll never be able to talk. Don't you see?" he urged her. "Bendis is too young, and too inexperienced, but she won't listen to me any more! She thinks she can do anything, but she's just going to get herself hurt, and maybe Venus and Mars with her!"

There was a long silence. Then Itsuko let out a breath. "Oh, Artemis," she said. "You're just as worried about her as you ever were about Diana when she was a kitten, aren't you?" She shook her head sadly. "Only this one, you can't bear to let go, because you're afraid of losing her too soon…"

"I—" He stopped, unable to speak, and stared down at the floor. "She has so little time, Rei," he said dully. "So little time. Fifteen years, and she'll be gone. And she's the last of the line. The last of the Moon Cats, and when she goes, there'll only be me…"

Itsuko nodded. "And so you try to shield her, and that makes her feel inadequate, to the point where she'll to do anything to prove herself to you. That's it, isn't it?" she said gently. "And you're both so strong-willed that you argue all the time anyway…"

He gave her a bleak look. "So what am I supposed to do?" he asked.

- - -

"What am I going to do, Beth-chan?" asked Bendis miserably.

"Silly." Beth smiled at her, rubbing the cat's head gently. "You're going to come home with me, of course. What did you think? That I'd just leave you behind again?"

"Oh." Bendis stared at her for a little longer, and for one moment Beth thought that she was going to cry again. "Really?" she said. There was fear and uncertainty in her voice; but mixed with it was a sudden eager hope.

Then, before Beth could answer, she abruptly sprang off her lap and began to wash herself with desperate intensity.

Beth watched, relieved and a little bemused. This evening had been a strange reversal for the two of them. Somehow she and Bendis had swapped roles. It was an odd feeling, having Bendis turn to _her_ for once. Odd, but rather nice.

Bendis continued to lick her fur, though she seemed to be beginning to relax now. Perhaps it was a kind of calming process for cats, Beth thought absently. She wondered if Artemis did it, and smiled at the mental image. Usually, Bendis was so self-reliant, so much more in control…

A peculiar thought occurred to her. "Bendis?" she said. "How old are you, anyway?"

Bendis froze, one haunch raised comically in mid-air. "Er, what?" she said guiltily.

_Ah-ha,_ Beth thought. "You heard me," she said. She was beginning to smile.

Bendis muttered something under her breath. "Excuse me?" Beth prompted. "I didn't quite catch that."

Bendis sighed. "_Two_, all right? I'm two. Are you happy now?"

"_Two_?"

The cat groaned. "It isn't the way it sounds," she said peevishly. "In human years that'd be…I don't know. Sixteen or seventeen."

"Sixteen?" Beth said in delight. "Sixteen? You're the same age as me?"

Bendis thought about it. "Seventeen," she decided. "Definitely."

"You're cheating!" Beth accused. She was grinning openly now.

"I am not!" Bendis shouted. "Listen, who do you think's the boss here? I'm the Moon Cat; _I'm_ training _you_, not—"

She broke off abruptly. "Er," she said. The belligerence seemed to drain out of her in a rush. She turned away from Beth, suddenly looked completely wretched.

Beth cleared her throat. "It's all right, you know," she said reassuringly. "It doesn't matter. You can still train me." Bendis gave her a pained look and she added hastily, "Well, I mean, you always have all those ideas—and I could never think of things like that, so maybe it's best if you just keep on—"

Bendis snorted. "Don't lay it on too thick," she said roughly. Beth opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it. Instead, she bowed her head meekly.

"Oh—I suppose we can keep going," Bendis said at last. "I mean…it has been fun, hasn't it? Mostly. I don't mean today, but…it has been fun. Hasn't it?"

Beth thought about it for a few moments. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," she answered honestly.

Bendis nodded, satisfied. "Good," she said. "That's the main thing. Duty and obligations are all very well, but you've got to _live_."

"I, um, I suppose so," said Beth, not really sure how to answer. After a moment she added tentatively, "If you've only got fifteen years…"

Bendis shook her head. "I meant you, too, Beth-chan," she said patiently. "Think about it—you've only got another sixty, seventy years yourself. But look at Artemis. He's going to live practically forever, and see what it's made him! Stuffy, cautious…boring."

"But…the old Senshi were immortal too, weren't they? Look at Hino-sama—I mean, Pappadopoulos-sama—"

"The old Senshi had Sailor Moon and the Ginzuishou. _You_ don't have the luxury of an immortal viewpoint." Bendis shook her head. "No, having fun is more important."

Beth bit her lip dubiously. "But…but what about being a Senshi? We have to fight, we have to defend the world—"

Bendis paused, and looked all around them carefully. Then she said, "Beth, change to Venus for a moment, will you?"

Confused, Beth obeyed. "Now," said Bendis. "What was that about fun again?"

Venus blinked, and grinned. "Well, I suppose you do have a point…"

"I knew you'd see it my way."

"But, well, maybe we can defend the world too?"

Bendis thought about it. "Oh—I suppose so," she said grudgingly. "I guess that wouldn't hurt…"

- - -

Affairs had quietened down inside. Itsuko and Miyo had dragged Artemis off for a private heart-to-heart, and the others had dispersed in their wake. Dhiti had stuck around, though. She had a hunch that the show wasn't over yet.

She was rewarded when she saw Beth and Bendis come in. They didn't look too unhappy, she noted; they were chatting away to each other calmly enough. "They never have days like this in the viddy program," Beth was saying, rather peevishly.

"I thought you said you don't watch that any more?" inquired Bendis.

"Er—" Beth cut off, looking guilty. "Well, not for a while now," she said, a little lamely. Bendis snorted.

"What program?" asked Dhiti, intrigued.

They looked around, startled. "Er—'Queen Serenity and her Senshi,'" said Bendis. "Beth-chan was telling me all about it, a couple of weeks back."

Dhiti wrinkled her brow. "But that's a kids' program," she pointed out, deciding not to mention that since she'd become Sailor Mercury she'd been watching it religiously.

Beth sighed. "What's so wrong with watching a kids' program?" she asked plaintively. "All right! So I used to watch it! Is that a crime?"

"Of course not," said Dhiti comfortingly. "Nobody would ever suggest that it's a little babyish for a sixteen-year-old to watch a program aimed at kids half your age."

"Gee, thanks."

"Think nothing of it," Dhiti said modestly. She eyed Beth, suddenly smelling a rat. "Just out of curiosity, _when_ did you stop watching it?" she inquired innocently.

Beth flushed scarlet. "Er—" she began.

Dhiti smiled beatifically. "It wouldn't have been just after Bendis found you, would it?" she purred.

"Er—"

"What?" shouted Bendis. "Beth! You traitor! You know I wanted to see that!"

Dhiti sat back and watched as the cat chased the girl around and around the room, shouting insults wildly at each other and, before long, laughing so hard they could hardly breathe. Eventually, Beth managed to escape out the door, and Bendis pursued her, still shouting at the top of her voice.

Dhiti sighed contentedly. "Sometimes," she said to nobody in particular, "I'm so good I scare myself."

- - -

By ten o'clock, the party was starting to break up. Some of the girls could have gone on for longer; but after all, it had been a very long day.

Iku left first. She very nearly made it out of the door without anybody noticing; she muttered a goodbye at Miyo when the latter was in the middle of a conversation with Suzue, and gave a tiny wave to Artemis and Itsuko while both of them were looking away. Dhiti caught her before she could escape, though, and insisted on saying a loud farewell. Bendis (whom Dhiti had maliciously been briefing on the 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi' viddy program, in agonising detail) joined in, possibly out of relief. What with one thing and another, the two of them actually got Iku to smile again before she managed to leave.

"That is one strange girl," said Bendis thoughtfully as the door closed behind Iku.

"Yup," said Dhiti. She smirked. "I love a challenge."

Bendis gave her an interested look. "Oh? What kind of challenge?"

"I already said, this morning," Dhiti reminded her. "I'm going to get her singing karaoke. In public. And liking it."

Bendis thought about it. "Iku-san?" she said. Then: "Naaah."

"Want to bet?" inquired Dhiti.

"How much?" returned Bendis.

The two fell to plotting.

- - -

Dhiti left herself, twenty minutes later; she had some distance to go to get home, and after all they had school the next day. Somehow, without her the whole suite felt a lot quieter and less crowded, and Beth began to notice how tired she was feeling herself. She went in search of Bendis.

The cat was in the living room, eyeing a mostly-empty plate of onigiri. "You ready to go?" Beth asked her.

Bendis looked up quickly. She couldn't form expressions the way a human could, of course, but Beth could see her smile anyway. She smiled with her whole body. "I sure am," she said.

Beth grinned back at her. "Let's go, then…Bendis-chan."

Bendis looked up at her quickly, and snickered. Beth snickered back amiably. As they started toward the door, Bendis said, "You know, we're going to have to talk about this viddy thing, Beth-chan…"

"Oh, come on. It's not like it's that great a program anyway. If you're that keen, why didn't you check out an episode yourself? You could manage the viddy control with paws—"

At that moment Artemis stepped out in front of them, bringing them to an involuntary halt. "Going somewhere?" he inquired.

"Yes." Beth's voice was low but firm. "We're going home. Together."

He ignored her completely. "Bendis, you can't do this," he said insistently. "You have to stay. I—I have to tell you—"

He was cut off rudely as Beth picked him up by the scruff of the neck. Holding him up so they were eye-to-eye, she asked softly, "Just how were you planning to stop us?"

"Hey! Put me down!" he squawked indignantly.

"Certainly." Beth walked to the suite's front door, still carrying him. She held the door open for Bendis, then stepped through herself. As she closed the door behind her, she dropped him lightly inside.

He stood, staring at the closed door for a long time. His fur was bristling. When he turned away at last, he saw Itsuko watching him.

"Accept it, Artemis," she said sympathetically. "You have to let go sometime."

He sighed. "Et tu, Pappadopoule?"

- - -

Itsuko was in the middle of a yawn, by way of a gentle hint, when Suzue came up to her and asked her diffidently if she could speak to her in private.

Itsuko eyed her for a few moments. The girl looked tense and a little apprehensive. Wondering what could be bothering her, Itsuko nodded and led her to her office. She closed the door behind them, turned to face Suzue, and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Suzue swallowed once, and said, "It was true, wasn't it? What you said before? That—" She gulped again. "That you are Hino Rei?"

Itsuko frowned. "Yes. Why would I lie?" With a touch of her old asperity she added, "What, do you want me to put on a black wig so you can check?"

"No! I mean, I—" Suzue broke off again. As if she were afraid of the answer, she said, "But…you were not reborn? You are—you are one of the Senshi of Queen Serenity, incarnate?"

"Incarnate?" That was a very odd way of putting it. "Yes," Itsuko snapped, "I was there, I saw it all with my own two eyes…Suzue-san, what the hell is all this? What are you trying to say?"

Suzue took a deep breath. Then, to Itsuko's utter horror, she knelt down at her feet, bowed her head very low, and said, "Please forgive me, Holy One. I do not know what is proper. What form of reverence would you prefer?"

Itsuko stared down at her for some time. At last, in a dangerously quiet voice, she said, "_What_?"

Suzue shifted uncomfortably, and tried to squirm a little lower. "I—I'm sorry. Should I—should I have some form of offering? Should I join the gymnasium? Would that be appropriate?"

There was an ominous silence. After a few seconds, she peeked up.

Itsuko had spent a very long time learning to control her temper. She had started to work on it during the first years of Serenity's reign, more or less in self-defence, and she'd had centuries of practice since then. Almost anyone she knew, if asked, would have agreed that she was a very calm, level-headed and politely-spoken woman.

It had been a long day, though.

"What the hell are you talking about!" she exploded. "Is this some kind of pathetic joke? You think it's funny, spouting that gibberish like you're one of those—"

She froze.

"Suzue-san," she said, far too calmly, "please tell me that you're not a member of the Church of Serenity."

Suzue looked up at her, her face white but determined. "Lady Hino, I am one of the faithful," she said defiantly. "And I beg you to accept my service and convey my allegiance and my oath of dedication to the ears of the Blessed Lady Seren—"

"No!" Itsuko roared. "How can you—damn it, Suzue-san, stop talking this nonsense! You cannot possibly believe that—"

She broke off, seeing the girl's face.

"You are testing me," Suzue said tightly.

"Suzue-san," Itsuko breathed. "You're an intelligent girl. How can you do it? How can you believe this nonsense?"

"It is not nonsense!" Suzue's eyes flashed. Her usual diffidence seemed to fall away from her like a cast-off cloak. "You were there! You saw Her in her majesty and might!"

"Yes, I was there," Itsuko snapped back. Her control was slipping again. "I saw her, all right. And one thing I saw was that she was no goddess!"

"She was! Time and time again she defeated evil and its servants! She slew Chaos itself! And when the Black One was reborn, and locked the world in ice for centuries, she broke free and cleansed the entire Earth of evil! Hino-sama—" There was pleading in Suzue's voice. "How can you say she was no goddess?"

"She was as human as I am." Itsuko's mouth twisted wryly. "More human." Then, shaking her head, she went on, "Believe me, Suzue-san. If you could have known her when she was a girl—how clumsy she could be, or just how rotten a student she was—if you could have heard that laugh of hers, or seen her hogging all the food at our meetings, or stealing my manga—" It was strange how irritating that memory could be, even now. All the same, she found that she had to clear her throat; there seemed to be a lump in it. "She was all human, I promise you," she finished with a melancholy smile. "As human a human could be."

"She transcended mortality!" Suzue insisted. "She was born twice; she died each time to save her people; and someday soon she will rise a third time, and her peace will the Earth and her reign will be without end!"

Itsuko grinned suddenly. "Miyo has been born three times now. Does that make her a goddess too?"

"Miyo-san is—" Suzue glared at her. "You're making fun of me. Miyo-san was reborn by the will of the Blessed Serenity. As you were yourself, in the Twentieth Century."

"Huh. Have you told _her_ that?"

Suddenly Suzue's certainty seemed to evaporate. "No. I haven't talked to her about it. I'm not certain whether—I mean, she told me that since her rebirth she is basically a new person, with little more than the memories of her past lives. I wanted to talk about it with an Intercessor, but I wasn't sure if I should—"

Itsuko snorted. "Intercessor. You mean one of your half-baked 'holy men'? Let me tell you something, Suzue-san. Holy men are just as capable as being blind, or ignoring what's right under their noses, as anyone else." She scowled down at the girl. "As blind as you, for example."

"I am not blind!" Suzue was on her feet now, staring at Itsuko, her fists clenched. "How can you deny it? How can you deny what you yourself have seen? You were there when she defeated Chaos—"

"No," Itsuko said coldly. "As a matter of fact, I wasn't." And that was a memory that still made her shiver at night…But then she saw Suzue's sudden smile, and realised too late that she'd walked into a trap.

"No, you weren't," Suzue said triumphantly. "You were dead, and she restored you to life! Not once, but twice! Someone who can do _that_—how can you deny her power, and her strength, and her love?"

Itsuko took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was shaking, she realised, and hoped that Suzue could not see it. "I don't deny them," she said. "But I do deny that those made her a goddess. She was a wonderful, warm, caring person—the strongest person I ever met.

"But she was a human person, Suzue-san. And I know that she would be horrified if she knew that there were people who want to call her their goddess."

Suzue set her jaw. "But she—"

"Suzue-san, I was there. I knew her." Itsuko could not keep a slight vindictive edge out of her voice as she added, "And your 'Intercessors' weren't. Who do you think knows better?"

Suzue stared at her for a few seconds longer. Then, abruptly, she whirled and rushed out. Moments later, Itsuko heard the door to the stairs bang.

She closed her eyes, and said, "Shit."

- - -

Suzue walked home, her face pale and set. She did not cry. When she arrived, she went inside calmly, greeted her parents—who saw her face and did not ask where she'd been all day—and went to bed quietly. She did not shed a single tear.

She lay there, staring up at the ceiling all night, defiantly not crying.

- - -

Miyo and Artemis met Itsuko in the living room. "I heard shouting," said Artemis. "What happened?"

Itsuko hissed through her teeth. "Nothing," she said at last. "Just a misunderstanding. I think I've got it cleared up now." _I hope,_ she added silently.

"Oh." Artemis was clearly dissatisfied, but he did not press her. Which was just as well, she suddenly realised. She had never thought to ask if he knew about Suzue's…beliefs.

He yawned instead, and said, "Well, I think I'll get some sleep." Very casually, he looked around the living room and added, "I don't know if I can say the same about you, though." There was a distinct look of smugness about him as he turned and walked out.

Itsuko sighed, looking around the room herself. He had a point.

The room—in fact, much of the suite—was a wreck. There were plates, cups and drinking glasses scattered all over the floor. One end of the living room was covered with the torn paper streamers they'd used as levels for the limbo contest. Cushions were strewn across the floor. There were sticky, discoloured patches in the carpet where something unidentifiable had been spilled. It looked, in short, as though a highly successful party had been held there. Itsuko didn't remember it being that good, herself. Though it hadn't been bad until things went downhill, toward the end…

"Who'd've thought six girls could make such a mess?" she muttered to herself. With another sigh, she knelt down and started picking the plates up.

Miyo joined her a few seconds later. "We could have met down in one of the rooms at the back of the gym," she pointed out. "They wouldn't have made this much mess there."

"No, the only rooms with the debugging equipment are up here," Itsuko replied absently. She dabbed at a patch in the carpet. "What _is_ this stuff?" She sighed. "Maybe we can find another place to meet in future. But the Olympus did seem the best choice…"

"Mm."

As they continued working, Itsuko stole a quick glance at Miyo. The girl was rather quiet, withdrawn. Just tired? Or was she thinking of her parents again? She'd hoped that today would distract Miyo from that subject…

"What's wrong?" she asked at last.

Miyo did not try to pretend that she didn't understand. "I was just thinking," she said slowly. "All that talk about what happened before the Fall…it just brought it back to me. I couldn't help remembering what…what happened, that day in Amsterdam. What you—we said. What we did to each other."

Itsuko froze. That was another subject that she wanted to think of as little as possible. Try as she might to forget, though, it was a day she still remembered vividly—sometimes in her nightmares. She found herself touching her left shoulder, where the most prominent scars were.

"I know," she said reflectively. "I haven't forgotten. But it's all so much clearer for you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

There was a long silence. "You're thinking it was my fault," said Itsuko quietly.

"No. It was—it was my fault too. We were both to blame. But I—"

Itsuko got up and went to her side. "Do you want to talk about it?" She rested a hand on Miyo's shoulder gently.

Miyo shied away. "No! I—" She knelt there, her arms huddled around herself, for a few seconds. "I just think I…I'd like to go to bed now."

She stood and walked off, alone. Itsuko watched her go, but did not try to follow.

**-**

* * *

**-**

Takekawa Yutaka pulled up outside the 'M' Division manufacturing plant and hurried into the building. He showed his ID to the guards as he touched the palm-print reader at the gate. A dark-haired woman in Council uniform was waiting for him inside.

"Araki-san," he said, stopping to catch his breath. "Welcome to—"

"Never mind that," she said brusquely. "I need to see your entry records."

"I—" He blinked. "Of course," he said. "This way. May I ask why 'K' Division is interested in—?"

"It's a matter of Council security," she snapped. "That's all you need to know."

He bowed nervously. "Of course," he repeated.

He led her to his office, and called up the records she'd asked for. His mind was whirling. What did a Serry want with entry records to an 'M' Division plant? What was so urgent that he had to be called in late on a Sunday night?

Araki made an impatient gesture, and he stood up hastily. She sat down at his desk and began to tap away at the computer. Records flashed across the screen, impossibly fast. He watched, uncomprehending. She could not possibly be taking it all in at that speed. No human being could possibly—

"Here," she said. The screen froze on a single page of data. He leaned forward to peer at it. An entry record for a secure workshop? June 23rd, nearly three weeks ago. There was a small, rather blurred image of two people at the workshop doorway.

"Your ident code," she said, rather unnecessarily.

One of the faces in the photograph was his own. He stared at it, baffled. "But that's—" he began. "No, wait. I remember. She was a courier. I was showing her around the plant. That was all—"

"You were showing a _courier_ around?" Araki asked sarcastically.

Takekawa flushed. "I made a mistake," he protested. "I thought she was—look, it was perfectly innocent! She asked to see what was going on, and it was just an Opal being repaired, so I opened the—the supervisor told me they were doing secret work and I took her out again immediately! There was no harm done!"

"Really? Let's see, shall we?" Araki said. She touched a key, and the security record began to play. For a moment, the face of the woman with Takekawa was clearly visible. She was tall and elegant, with long, green-black hair.

Araki caught her breath. "Meiou Setsuna," she breathed.

Takekawa said, "What?" He looked at the entry record again nervously. "No, her name was…" He tried to remember. "Sada—something. Sadako?"

"Meiou Setsuna," repeated Araki. "Oh, you fool, you let Sailor Pluto into the plant!"

His hands were shaking. "Sailor—? But there's no such—I don't—I didn't—" He stuttered to a halt. Then, for one last time, he lifted his voice in protest. "Even if I did, she's a Senshi! What's wrong with letting a Senshi in?"

The light in the room changed. He looked up. Araki was gone. Where she had been standing was another woman, dressed in midnight blue and silver. Her face was the same as Araki's, but different—twisted, somehow. In the centre of her forehead was a giant glowing jewel.

"I'm afraid, Takekawa-san," she said, "that you have made a rather unfortunate mistake."

She reached out toward him. He never quite managed to scream.

- - -

"It was Pluto," Twelve reported over the comm, some time later. "She just walked into the plant. One of the supervisors even showed her around. It was perfect."

"Indeed," replied the chairman coolly. "I suppose we have little chance of following the lead up, then. Give me the name she used, and I'll pass it to 'S' Division, but I doubt that they'll find anything."

"Unlikely," Twelve agreed. She looked down at her hand, and delicately licked a streak of red from one fingernail.

"Unless you have some means of tracing her yourself?" inquired the chairman. She could almost hear his mocking smile.

"Sailor Jupiter destroyed the only tracker we had," she answered, unfazed. "Even that one was…very draining to activate. We can't spare the resources to energise another at the moment."

"Then we've reached a dead end," he said.

"Yes." She paused, scowling. "The timing of this is bad," she said at last. "Pluto has caused the Master…severe difficulties before. We almost took her during the Fall, but she realised what was happening too soon, and managed to escape. She'll need to be handled very carefully." Another pause. "She may have gotten into other secure zones, though. Get 'D' and 'S' Divisions to check—but quietly."

"Very well," said the chairman at once. "But have you considered that, if she's working to protect the others, she may overplay her hand? She could end up leading us right to them."

Twelve snorted. "Not Pluto. She's too careful." Then she grinned. "Anyway, it's too soon for that."

**-**

* * *

**-**

So the long day ended. Across the city, as enemies continued their plotting, more innocent folk took to their beds. For some of them, sleep came easily; for others, less so. All of them had a lot to think about.

Miyo dreamed:

She saw a young girl standing on the branch of one of the giant trees of Callisto, the vast, pale shape of Jupiter faintly visible overhead, and knew that the girl was herself. The scene shifted and she saw the Queen's palace in the Silver Millennium, serene and beautiful, and recognised the five people she saw standing on a balcony. She saw the Tokyo of her youth, alive and bustling, and the familiar group of girls who walked, talking and laughing, down the street. She saw the glittering splendour of Crystal Tokyo and its Queen, and by her side, those who were her chief aides and friends. And she saw the Olympus Gymnasium, and the motley group gathered there…and she realised with sudden joy that these, too, were family.

She heard a quiet voice in her dream, asking her, "Which of these is your true home?" And she answered without hesitation, "All of them."

- - -

Beth dreamed:

She flew through the air, effortlessly, arms outstretched, feeling the wind in her face and crying out with joy. She was a hero. Nothing could stop her. She could do anything.

Suddenly she heard a shout from below. She looked down and saw a teenage girl, waving her arm and calling for help. Effortlessly, she swooped down and picked the girl up, lifting her away from whatever unseen danger threatened her. The girl wrapped her arms around Beth's neck and said, "My hero!"

There was something familiar about her. Then, with a start, Beth realised why. The girl had Beth's own face. "But if you're Beth," she said, "who am I?"

- - -

Dhiti dreamed:

She ran through a vast crowd of people. Everywhere she went, hands reached out to clutch at her: boys, girls, men and woman. She dodged them all easily. Nobody could touch her. She was Sailor Mercury. She was as slippery as ice.

"Can't _anybody_ touch me?" she asked mournfully.

- - -

Suzue did not dream.

- - -

Iku dreamed:

She saw the road ahead of her, the Longest Road. She saw the warhorse, and the spear of flame. She saw the Staff of Worlds. She heard the familiar, cold voice asking, "Are you ready?"

She hid her face in her hands. Eventually, the dream went away.

- - -

Itsuko dreamed:

She heard someone talking to her, and turned and saw Sailor Moon—the new Sailor Moon. And when she recognised the girl's face, she burst out laughing at the irony of it.

The laughter woke her up, and the moment, the memory, was gone. She went into her secret room and knelt before the sacred fire, trying to recapture what she had seen, but the only vision that came to her was of the face of Queen Serenity.

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
**END OF CHAPTER NINE**

**Next:** A hunter finds her quarry; a Senshi finds an unwelcome truth; a young man finds a vocation; and several spies find entirely too much.

- - -

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

A few acknowledgements:

Some ideas in this chapter are loosely drawn—though much changed—from the BBC and Thames Television serials "Quatermass and the Pit" and "Quatermass" by Nigel Kneale.

The song quotation is taken from the Walt Disney film "Mulan"; lyrics by David Zippel, music by Matthew Wilder.

Astronomical data for the years 3477, 3478 and 4200 (moon phases and moonrise/set times) were calculated using "Starry Night Pro" from Sienna Software Ltd.

My thanks to those who gave valuable advice on this chapter: Ammadeau (who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and insisted I change the bits that were wrong, and thereby immeasurably improved them); Sandy Drobic; David Farr; Jussi Nikander; and Helmut Ott.


	11. Chapter 10: Discovery

**What has gone before:** In the year 3478, Crystal Tokyo was destroyed. A nameless evil awoke deep under the city, and transformed much of the world's population into mindless crystalline creatures. An attack on the Ginzuishou itself left Queen Serenity impotent, and she and her Senshi died fighting a hopeless battle against the invaders.

Civilisation fell; a new dark age began. Now, centuries later, a new world order has arisen, centred on the city of Third Tokyo, and governed by the shadowy Serenity Council—and through them, by the unseen Enemy that destroyed Crystal Tokyo.

Artemis, Rei and Setsuna all survived the final battle. Now, Artemis and his young great-granddaughter Bendis have formed a new generation of Senshi: Mercury (Sharma Dhiti), Venus (McCrea Beth), Mars (Kodama Iku), Jupiter (Hayashi Miyo) and Uranus (Itagaki Suzue).

The Council have a hidden plan that involves the Senshi. They create monsters known as vitrimorphs, ostensibly to hunt the Senshi, but really to lure them into fulfilling the Council's purpose. The vitrimorphs are commanded by Twelve, a council member given strange powers by the Enemy.

The first exploits of the Senshi are national news but public opinion soon takes a disturbing direction: some people hate them; others want to worship them. One of the new Senshi, Suzue, is actually a member of the Church of Serenity, a group who believe that the queen was a goddess.

Meanwhile, the other survivors of Crystal Tokyo have become involved: Pappadopoulos Itsuko (previously known as Hino Rei), and Fumihiko Sadako (once Meiou Setsuna). Itsuko, now powerless, lives quietly as the owner of the Olympus Gymnasium. The Olympus comes under Council investigation when Itsuko tries to aid Artemis, and to preserve the secret of her past she seeks help from an old friend in the criminal Sankaku Clans; however this only makes the investigators more suspicious.

Artemis realises that Miyo is actually Kino Makoto, now reborn into a third lifetime. When he tries to reawaken her past memories, though, he accidentally restores her memories of the Silver Millennium too. Later, when her family learn of her past, they are shocked; her father formally disowns her, and she moves into the Olympus with Itsuko.

Meanwhile, a friend of Beth and Iku has learned that they are Senshi, and is looking for the identities of the others as well…

- - - - - - -

* * *

- - - - - - -

Tsukamoto awoke with the siren song of the plants in his ears. His eyes snapped open in indignation. It was no longer just his hedge; the green conspiracy was obviously spreading. He'd tried to warn the authorities, but would they listen?

Outside, the singing rose and fell. He scowled, and clenched his teeth in resolution. Very well, then; it fell to him to save the world. He would not flinch from his duty.

He rose from his bed, staggered a little at the pain in his back, and set about girding himself for war. Solemnly he wrapped a loincloth about his hips, and then flung open the wardrobe in the corner of his tiny room.

His eye fell upon a long bundle standing at the back, wrapped in faded silk. Forgetting his search for suitable battle-raiment, he lifted the bundle, removed the wrapping reverently, and held up the weapon thus revealed to catch the light.

It was a katana: a family heirloom, ancient and fabulously valuable. Tradition said that it had been forged by the legendary swordsmiths of Kyushu in 3927, only a few years before the city fell to the raiders. His arm shook, just a little, as he drew the blade. He held it aloft for a moment, his lips moving in a silent vow of dedication.

Then, with a defiant battle-cry on his lips, Tsukamoto Akira strode forth to war.

- - -

It was, his neighbours later agreed, one of old Tsukamoto's better mornings. He emerged from his room at the nursing home, scaring one of the nurses almost to death, and shouting that the plants were out to conquer the world. The bit about the plants, at least, was nothing new. The fact that he was wearing only a threadbare loincloth, and waving a baseball bat as if it were a sword…that part was different.

Followed by a small but steadily-growing crowd of delighted young children, he marched down to the botanical gardens, approached a stand of rose bushes, and challenged them to a duel. Nobody quite heard what the rose bushes replied, but it must have been inflammatory. Tsukamoto yelled at the top of his voice, and attacked.

It was quite a match. The roses gave a good accounting for themselves, judging by their assailant's shouts and curses. The battle raged back and forth for some time, or at least Tsukamoto did, with both sides taking a good deal of damage. Rather to everyone's disappointment, the proceedings finally drew to a halt when 'P' Division arrived.

"Did I win?" he asked the two harassed-looking officers plaintively as they disarmed him. "Is the Earth safe?"

The crowd gave him a round of applause as the officers helped him into an ambulance and drove off.

A teenage girl was walking through the gardens. She paused for a moment at the edge of the crowd, watching unobtrusively, as she went by. At last, unenlightened, Kodama Iku gave a baffled shrug and continued on her way to school.

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER TEN  
Discovery: Night Excursions, Day Trials  
and the Danger of Taking a Bath**

Beth sighed as she walked through the school gate. It felt like forever since she'd been here. The previous day alone had seemed to last an eternity. It had been seven hundred and twenty-two years long…

And yet, she saw, the school was the same as ever. The sun still shone; the courtyard was filled with boys and girls, talking and laughing. Nothing had changed; yet at the same time, it seemed somehow unfamiliar. That meant something, she thought; but what? Was it she, and not the school, that was different?

She did not have long to brood about it, however. Nanako intercepted her as she walked toward the school building. Some things, she realised wryly, never changed.

"Hiya, Beth-chan!" the girl said cheerfully. "Have a good weekend? You look tired," she added, frowning at her for an instant.

"Umm. Fine," Beth answered. In fact she'd been beaten nearly to death on Saturday, and then spent all Sunday listening to the story of the end of the world; but she could hardly mention that. And she did feel tired; she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Her head still ached, and her dreams had been bad.

"Oh. Good," Nanako answered, not seeming to notice her lack of enthusiasm. Then she frowned. "You're limping."

"I went out jogging," Beth replied. "I fell, and got banged up a bit." All three statements, she reflected morosely, were literally true. They just didn't quite go together the way they sounded.

"You should relax more," Nanako advised her sagely. "All that…action stuff is bad for you." She laughed, as if she'd said something funny.

"I suppose so." A moment later Beth brightened as a familiar figure approached. "Good morning, Eitoku-kun," she carolled.

"Good morning, Beth-chan," he answered solemnly. "Hi, Nana-chan. What's new?"

Nanako's eyes lit up. "I heard there was another Senshi battle on Saturday," she said.

Eitoku let out a groan. "Hooray," he said.

"You did?" Beth blurted out at the same moment, startled. _But that wasn't in public,_ she thought, alarmed. "Um…where did you hear that?" she asked.

"Beth-chan, please. I hear everything. You know that." Nanako looked insufferably smug. "Apparently a burglar alarm went off at an abandoned warehouse, and 'P' Division found a lot of wreckage there, and piles of those crystal shards all over the place. _And_"—she played her trump card—"there were two dead bodies in one of the buildings. And they were surrounded by photographs of Sailor Venus!" She fixed Beth with a gimlet stare. "What do you think of _that_?" she demanded triumphantly.

Beth shrank back. "Bodies?" she asked, shocked. "And—photographs of m—of Venus? I—how? Where?"

Eitoku sighed. "Where do you hear all this stuff, Nana-chan?" he asked. "Sometimes I think you're making it all up."

"Don't be silly. My father is a 'P' Division officer, remember?" Nanako smirked at him. "I should start charging you guys for all this information. I could make a fortune."

He snorted. "You think people would _pay_ to hear you spread rumours?"

"Well, that's true." She pulled out her purse and studied it mournfully. "Besides, it'd be too much trouble. All that running around, collecting debts…Hey, you all right, Beth-chan?"

"I—" Beth swallowed. "Bodies?" she repeated. "Who? What happened to them?"

Nanako studied her thoughtfully for a moment. At last she said, rather more seriously, "A pair of caretakers, I think. Dad didn't say much." Beth waited for her to ask why she wanted to know, but she didn't. Instead, for no apparent reason, she said, "All the photos were blurry, like always."

"Oh!" Beth hadn't even considered that. Then a happier thought occurred to her. "So they still don't know who Sailor Venus is."

Nanako winced, as if in pain. "No," she said heavily. "I guess they don't. Hey, Beth-chan, have you ever heard of the word 'subtlety'?"

"Huh?" Beth stared at her. "Yes, of course. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. So, Eitoku-kun, anything exciting happen to _you_ over the weekend?"

"Who, me? No." Nanako rolled her eyes at Beth, who stifled a giggle. But then Eitoku brightened and said, "Oh, wait. I was doing some reading at the library—" Nanako rolled her eyes again "—and I saw this announcement on the notice-board. 'D' Division is sponsoring a new political-studies program for students. I sent off an application form."

Nanako blinked. "I asked if you did anything exciting, and you tell me about a political-studies program?"

He glared at her. "That _is_ exciting!" he protested. "You know I want to join 'D' Division when I graduate, and this could be a big help!"

Beth could not keep the laugh in any longer. "'D' Division? You want to be a spy?"

"Diplomat!" he retorted.

Beth and Nanako glanced at each other. Then, "Spy!" they chorused.

"Diplomat!"

"Spy!"

"Diplomat!"

"Is this a private game, or can anyone join in?" came a voice from behind them.

"Spy!" shouted Nanako happily. "Oh, hi, Iku-chan. No, roll on in. We're just telling Eitoku-kun how he—"

She blinked. "Iku-chan?"

It was Iku, all right, but she was smiling: faintly, nervously, but definitely. It made her whole face look different. "Hi, Nana-chan, Eitoku-kun," she said. "Hi, Beth-chan."

Her smile faded as the other three stared at her. "Umm," she said hesitantly, "what were you telling Eitoku-kun?"

"Um. Right." Nanako gave her one more look, then shook her head. "We were, um, just telling 'Toku-chan how he—"

Beth listened with half an ear as Nanako effortlessly spun the story out into a lengthy drama, with frequent interruptions and complaints from Eitoku. Most of her attention was on the girl standing beside her.

Iku had been so upset yesterday and on Saturday; now, suddenly, she was acting almost…well, normal. She wasn't cringing whenever anyone looked at her; she was speaking without being spoken to; and she was, well, smiling. Beth had never seen her this way before.

—Well, no. Actually, she _had_ seen Iku this way—weeks ago, back when Beth had been watching the three secretly; before she'd dared to speak to Eitoku. Iku had seemed a lot more alive then. And come to think of it, even yesterday, once she'd calmed down, she'd seemed pretty relaxed. What was going on?

She was jolted from her reverie by a shout from Eitoku. "All right, so I'm interested in politics!" he complained. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's the most boring subject on the planet!" Nanako shouted back. "That's what's wrong! You might as well spend your time watching snails climb a brick wall! At least the snails get somewhere!"

"It is not boring!" Eitoku insisted. "It's the most important thing in the world!" He clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "It's…politics is what lets people live together, work together! It's not just about governments and who rules who. Politics is…is what separates us from animals!" He gazed at her earnestly. "Look, if two animals disagree, they fight. But politics is what lets humans _not_ fight! If two people have a disagreement, instead of coming to blows over it, they can settle their differences and work out a solution they can both live with. And that's politics! Politics is _everything_!"

Nanako gave him a suspicious look. "You've been practising that speech, haven't you?"

He exploded. "Damn it, this is serious!" he shouted.

Her eyes widened; then, to Beth's surprise, Nanako actually backed down. "All right, all right, it's serious," she said placatingly. "Only…" She gave a melodramatic sigh. "Why did you have to be interested in something so _dull_? Give that brain thing of yours a rest, Eitoku-kun. Live in the real world for a change."

He snorted, shaking his head; but his anger had faded as quickly as it had flared up. "Real world? If I get into 'D' Division after I finish school, and work hard…who knows? I could end up on the Serenity Council someday. Is _that_ real enough for you?"

Nanako made a face. "You, a Serry? What a horrible thought." She looked over to Beth. "Beth-chan…does this boy look like Serry material to you? Be honest now."

Beth thought about it. Eitoku was wearing that earnest, determined look that made her heart want to melt. She opened her mouth to answer—

"Beth," Nanako said sharply, "you're getting a 'yes' look on your face. Stop it."

"Fine," Beth huffed. "I'll just join 'D' Division as well, and be a spy like Eitoku-kun."

Eitoku groaned. "Diplomat," he insisted.

"Spy!" shouted Beth, Nanako and Iku together. Then they looked at each other and started to laugh.

At last Eitoku joined in. Once the laughter had died down, though, he said, "Come on, you know that's just in bad anime, that all the diplomats are really spies. It's an urban legend."

"Hey!" Nanako said indignantly. "'Shadow Ambassadors' is not a bad anime! It's great! Anyway," she added more quietly, "my father says half the staff in our embassies are sending back coded reports every day. You want to bet they _aren't_ spies?"

"A lot your father would know about it," Eitoku said.

"He's a colonel in 'P' Division!"

"He's a lieutenant. You told me six months ago, remember?"

"Oh, that's right." Nanako hesitated. "Well—anyway—"

He shook his head sadly. "The bell's going to go in a couple of minutes. I'm going in to class." He turned and started toward the school building. Nanako gave a startled squawk and ran after him.

Beth waited for them to get out of earshot, and laid a hand on Iku's arm. "We have to talk," she whispered.

Iku jumped at the touch, then recovered. "What about?" she asked.

Beth took a quick glance around. Nobody was nearby. "After that fight at the warehouse on Saturday," she said quickly, "Nanako-chan says the police found two dead bodies in one of the buildings. Surrounded by pictures of me—I mean, Sailor Venus!"

Iku said nothing for a moment. "You think somebody knows who you are?" she asked cautiously.

"Maybe!" Beth hissed. "And maybe somebody killed those two people to find out, too! Iku-chan, what do you think I should do?"

"What do _I_ think?" Iku seemed taken aback. At last, tentatively, she said, "You…could ask Bendis-san? Or Miyo-sama?"

"'Sama'?" Beth asked, startled. Then she shook her head impatiently. "Yeah! Great idea!" She pulled her sleeve back to reveal her communicator. "Geez, this thing's running fast again," she muttered. She tapped the 'send' control gingerly and waited.

After a few seconds the tiny screen lit up to show Miyo's face. "Beth?" she asked, startled. "What's the matter? Another attack?"

"No—" Quickly, Beth outlined what Nanako had told her. "What do you think we should do?" she finished nervously.

Miyo was silent for some time, frowning in thought. "Maybe that's what she was talking about," she said at last.

"Who?"

"Lady Blue. After the battle, she gave me a photograph of you. She told me that she'd…'taken care of it' for me. For us."

Beth stared at her, open-mouthed in shock. "You mean…she killed them so they wouldn't—they couldn't—No! That's impossible! You can't think that!"

"I think," Miyo said slowly, "that there might not be much she wouldn't do. I think that she wants us to…to do something for her, and maybe she doesn't want us…distracted until we've finished."

"But—" Beth began.

"And I think," Miyo went on, overriding her protest, "that I want Sailor Mercury to scan the site with her computer. If Lady Blue was there before you were, setting a trap…" She smiled, showing her teeth. "This time, she might just have made a mistake."

She broke the connection before Beth could answer her. Beth and Iku exchanged a long look.

"She said she'll look into it," Beth said at last.

Iku licked her lips nervously. "Bodies," she said, and shivered.

"Yeah." Beth felt like shivering too. Unconsciously, she reached up and rubbed the spot on her arm where she had been shot, a month before. The bullet had left a scar, so faint as to be almost invisible. Then, someone had shot her; now, two people were dead because of her. It was a dangerous game that she was involved in. And seven hundred years ago, all the players had died…

She tried to push the thought away, think of something else. To her relief, at that moment the school bell rang. She trudged in to class, still worried. She found it very difficult to concentrate on her lessons all day.

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Wright Mark and Keenan Liam sauntered down the school hallway, talking animatedly. They were on their way to gym class, and taking their time about it; the PE teacher was notoriously late on Monday mornings. In the meantime, they had time to catch up on the weekend.

The two of them made a strikingly similar pair, except for their hair: Mark's was short and well-groomed, while Liam had a wild mane of a ponytail. Both attracted admiring glances from some of the passing girls. Both of them ignored the glances, for different reasons.

"So how was Saturday?" Mark asked, giving his friend a knowing grin. "Big date with the dream girl?"

Liam looked startled. "Who? Oh, Kin-chan." He snorted, and rubbed his cheek. "Not so great," he admitted after a moment.

Mark grimaced. "You're not getting grabby, are you? I told you, wait until the third date—"

"It's not that!" Liam was blushing. "Anyway, we've had more than three dates already…"

"Oho!"

"Idiot." He sighed. "It's just…I like her, she likes me, so what's the problem? But on Saturday…" He rubbed his cheek again, reminiscently. "I don't know. I must have said something wrong, I don't even know what. But she tells me I need to sort out what I'm looking for…whatever that means. And now she's not talking to me," he finished mournfully.

Mark whistled slowly, and laughed. "You've got it bad, all right," he said.

"I suppose. I'll have to find a way to apologise to her, I guess. If I can work out what I did."

"You'll manage," Mark told him. "If she cares, she'll forgive you…eventually."

"Oh, that helps," Liam said sarcastically. "You think Miyo-san's ever going to forgive _you_?"

"Oh, man. Maybe in a thousand years." Mark grimaced. "I don't know what else I can do. Lately, she even looks at me and she gets mad. If I could just find out what happened to her—"

"Poking around and asking questions is what got her mad at you in the first place."

"Yeah. But still…"

They reached the boys' changing rooms and found their lockers. Mark began to unbutton his shirt, then paused as Liam touched his shoulder, holding a finger to his lips. Mark listened. Some other boys were talking, just out of sight around the corner.

"—Hayashi? Come on," one of them was saying. "The big cow'd hit you as soon as look at you!"

"Great tits, though," said another. They laughed.

"Yeah. Ohh, wouldn't mind getting a handful of that—"

"Is it worth your life, though?" More sniggering.

"Dunno why she's so snooty about it. You heard why she got thrown out of home, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, one of her customers complained to her father, right?" They laughed again. "Hey, did you hear what it was the customer complained about—?"

There was more, but Mark stopped listening. He looked down at his hands, frozen on the buttons of his shirt. Slowly and carefully, he removed the shirt and put it in his locker. Then he stepped around the corner and tapped on the shoulder of the nearest speaker.

"Excuse me," he said in a very calm voice. "What was it you were just saying?"

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Bendis prowled through the McCrea home restlessly. She was bored beyond belief. It was not, she reflected frustratedly, shaping up to be a good day. For one thing, she was stuck inside.

When Beth's mother had left for her afternoon job, an hour before, she had absent-mindedly closed the little side-window that the cat used to get in and out of the house. Bendis didn't actually want to go anywhere, really; but the knowledge that she couldn't have even if she'd wanted to was driving her crazy.

She wandered into Helen and Edward's bedroom and stared around dourly. For a few moments she thought about leaving a hairball on the bed, just to let them know how she felt, but then reluctantly discarded the idea. Beth might get annoyed when she heard about it, and Bendis was trying to stay on Beth's good side at the moment.

The Senshi meeting the previous day had finally cleared the air between them. All the little untruths and prevarications were out in the open at last; and amazingly enough, Beth had accepted it all without hesitation. She had even taken Bendis' part against Artemis; and _that_ had been a moment beyond price.

After the meeting, when they'd come home, the girl and the cat had played it very cool. They were old friends, that was all; and there was absolutely no need to mention certain uncomfortably emotional scenes that had played out earlier. They had said good night to each other calmly and gone to bed without any fuss, and Bendis for one had slept soundly. Eventually.

All the same, she had a nagging feeling that sooner or later the two of them were going to have to talk about it, and frankly she'd rather that it be later than sooner. Therefore, it was imperative that she not get Beth upset, because Beth might want to discuss Bendis' imagined shortcomings, and who knew where that might lead?

Abruptly, she realised that she was sitting on the windowsill, staring longingly out the window. With a snort, she turned and leaped down to the floor.

She landed next to a book that was lying open, face-down, on the floor by the bed. _Rotten way to treat a book,_ she thought automatically. It was something she'd heard Beth say rather often. Beth was not a big reader, but she had definite ideas about how to look after the books she did have.

Then Bendis realised what else had caught her eye about the book, and forgot about the evils of cracked spines. The cover showed a dim, ghostly picture of a woman's face. Superimposed over it was embossed a stylised crescent moon. The title of the book was, "Secret Warriors: The Women Who Built Crystal Tokyo."

She stared at it uncertainly for a few minutes. It didn't necessarily mean anything, she told herself. It certainly didn't mean that Beth's parents knew too much. With a new group of Senshi operating in Third Tokyo, it would be perfectly natural for them to be reading up on the subject. She should almost have expected this.

All the same, she couldn't help remembering the time, weeks before, when Beth had told her that her mother distrusted the Senshi and had, in fact, made her promise to stay away from them. Beth had managed to word the promise so that she hadn't actually had to break it; but still, the situation had shaken her.

Now Bendis was the shaken one. The book meant nothing; surely it meant nothing; but still…did McCrea Helen suspect something?

It was possible. Bendis had to admit that Beth was not the best in the world at keeping secrets. (That Nanako girl had seen through her pretty quickly.) Historically, parents were not very good at realising that their daughters fought evil in their spare time; but she was not certain that the precedent would hold up in this day and age. There was Miyo's case, for example.

Perhaps it would be as well to have a word with Beth when the girl got home from school, she reflected. Just a caution, to be a little more on her guard. After all, if Beth got thrown out like Miyo, Bendis might end up back at the Olympus again.

She gave the book one more glance, then sighed and walked slowly out of the room. Maybe she could persuade Beth to read the book herself; it might give her a better idea of _why_ secrecy was a good idea. Things had been pretty chaotic for Serenity and her friends, back when their identities had been revealed to the world at the end of the twentieth century.

Actually, it might do Beth good in other ways, too. Her ideas of the past were still a little distorted by that wretched viddy program, "Queen Serenity and her Senshi." It didn't help that, infuriatingly, Bendis still hadn't seen an episode herself.

That thought brought the cat to a sudden halt. She was in the living room. The viddy set was right there. And the remote control…was right _there_. She held up a paw and studied it, then looked at the remote control again.

Hmm.

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"Well?" asked Miyo. "Did you find anything?" She was lying on her bed in her room in Itsuko's suite. It was growing dark outside.

She saw Dhiti sigh on the tiny screen of her communicator. "Did you have to call me on this thing?" her friend asked peevishly. "I was watching the viddy when it started beeping. I nearly had a heart attack. I thought it was a real emergency."

Miyo waved a hand impatiently at the screen. "Yes, but—" she began.

"My father was pretty surprised, too," Dhiti went on obliviously. Then she brightened. "He started asking nosy questions, so I told him it was my pacemaker going off."

"Yes, but…but…What did he say about that?" Miyo found herself asking involuntarily.

"He said good, if I ended up in hospital maybe he'd finally get some peace and quiet."

She took a deep breath, and counted to ten. "Yes, but what did you _find_?"

Dhiti gave a haughty sniff. "Anyone would think you _want_ me to have a heart attack, Hayashi. Oh…all right. Yeah, I went back out to the warehouse and did some scans. The whole place was full of weird energy signatures, but I think that was from the shards of that vitri-whatsit. They matched—" She hesitated suddenly. "They matched other scans I've made of shards," she said at last.

Miyo noted her sudden reluctance, but decided to leave that point for later. Instead she focused on her direct concern. "What about Lady Blue? Did you get anything?"

"Not really." Dhiti shook her head. "I'm still pretty new at this stuff, Hayashi, and you know computers were never really my thing. I did check the room where the bodies were found." She grinned for a moment. "It was covered in 'P' Division markers. Easy to find."

"And?" Miyo insisted.

"And, nothing!" Dhiti gave her an annoyed look. "There wasn't anything there. The only other energy signature I could find was a burglar alarm on the wall; and even that had an 'M' Division label. No clues at all, Hayashi. Sorry."

Miyo sat down on her bed sharply. "Damn," she said. "I thought for once—I was so certain—"

"Yeah, well." Dhiti did not sound too sympathetic. "It was kind of a long shot, wasn't it? Old Lady Blue's been pretty clever so far."

"Yes, but if there'd been some remnant of the trap—anything we could have used to try and trace her…" Miyo sighed. "I just can't help thinking we're missing something obvious. Like the way she always looks so familiar for some reason…"

Dhiti rolled her eyes. "You keep saying that, but _I_ can't see it. Look, don't knock yourself out, Hayashi. There'll be other days. Maybe next time she'll accidentally drop her business card, or something."

"You're a big help, Dhiti-chan."

"Oh, I know. But it's always nice to have confirmation. I'll send you a bill at the end of the month." Dhiti smirked at her. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened and she said, "Oh! While I remember—did Kin-chan give you the news after school today?"

Miyo blinked at the sudden shift in direction. "News? No. What—"

"She didn't tell you about Mark-kun?"

She felt a sudden sinking feeling. "Oh, no. What about him?"

Dhiti was actually jigging up and down in glee on the communicator screen. "Oh, you're going to love this! This is so great! I heard some of the other girls talking at school today. I was going to tell you about it, but then I had to run off to this old warehouse for no good reason—"

"Will you get on with it?"

"Calm down, Hayashi. You'll give yourself a heart attack." Dhiti chortled at her own wit, then rattled on, "It's just sooo romantic! Apparently he heard some of the other guys talking about you at gym, so Mark-kun—no, wait, I think I'm going to start calling him Mark-chan. Do you think he'll mind?"

"I'm sure he'll be ecstatic. Talking about me?" Miyo asked. "What were they saying?"

"Err." Dhiti came to a sudden stop. "Well—um. Err. You remember what some people were saying about you at school last week? About why you got…you know?"

"Yes," Miyo growled.

"Umm. It was like that, only, well, kind of worse. Anyway, when Mark-chan heard them, apparently he went sort of berserk. I can just see him as a Viking warrior, can't you?"

"Oh, no." Miyo clutched her forehead. "Tell me he didn't."

"Of course he did! That guy's got it for you pretty serious, Hayashi. When he was finished with them, they could hardly walk. You know," she went on thoughtfully, "you have all the luck. You've got your own knight in shining armour, ready to leap to your defence and do battle for your honour at a moment's notice…"

"He can't defend me! He's the one who started the problem in the first place!"

"Well, _yes_. But that was an accident, you know," Dhiti told her seriously. "He had no idea what had really happened. He was just trying to find out the truth so he could help you somehow—"

"You think I don't know that?"

"—And he's apologised, like, at least twelve thousand times since then. And now he's actually _fighting_ for you. Doesn't that count for something?"

"You idiot!" Miyo burst out. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

She broke the connection before Dhiti could reply, and sat back on her bed. Her hands were shaking. The immense unfairness of the situation made her want to scream. That Mark should want to defend her—as if he had some kind of _claim_ over her! It made her feel…not angry, somehow, but almost afraid.

At last, unable to stand the silence of her room any longer, she went out into the living room. Itsuko was sitting there, watching the viddy. A news program was showing; Araki Mamiko, the director of 'K' Division, was giving a speech. Itsuko looked up as Miyo came in, saw her expression, and said, "She didn't find anything, did she?"

"No!" Miyo snapped. Itsuko raised her eyebrows at her tone, and maintained a discreet silence. Miyo picked up a paperback romance that she had been reading earlier and began to scan it determinedly.

She was so upset that she quite forgot to call Beth back and tell her that Dhiti hadn't found anything.

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The Serenity Council met on Tuesday afternoon. All fifteen members were present. This was rather unusual of late; but then, there were certain topics that could not be discussed at a full meeting. Two of the councillors, Thirteen and Fifteen, had not been initiated by the Master, and they might not approve of some of the Council's less public activities.

It was, the chairman sometimes thought, a pity that they could not initiate the two. Still, there were long-term advantages in leaving a couple of members untouched. It helped the rest of them to keep a more human perspective. After all, whatever else they had become, they were still the government of Japan.

Human perspective could be a relative term, of course. He glanced at Twelve, seated at the table around to his right. She looked perfectly human at the moment; but when the meeting was over, she would drop her mask and become something that few of them, few even of the initiated, could face with equanimity. She was the Hand of the Master on Earth. She was also a reminder of what could happen to the rest of them, if they failed.

As if in answer to his thought, she looked up at him and gave him a friendly, normal smile. He managed to suppress his shudder.

The meeting had been a long one, but strictly routine, concerned with nothing more than the business of government. They debated several shipping regulation changes for 'R' Division. They accepted a request for foreign aid to the Uluru Republic, subject to the Republic's approval of a local 'D' Division listening post (or, as it would officially be known, "embassy"). They listened to a briefing on the expected yields of 'A' Division's new logging belt in Shikoku. They heard a perennial request from the automobile industry to increase electric car ranges. (That one was refused, as usual. If cars could go further, the Council would have to spend a lot more on road maintenance outside the major cities. People who wanted to travel long distances could catch a train.) They did this, they did that…sometimes he wondered what it would be like if all their meetings were this way. If the Council truly was nothing more than the government of Japan.

That was wishful thinking, though. He had a higher duty. One forged in ice and pain far below the surface of the Earth.

"That's all for today," he announced, as the last item on the agenda was finally cleared. "Does anyone have any general business they want to bring up?"

A silence fell around the table. He nodded, and was about to drop his bombshell when Thirteen spoke up. She was a demure-looking middle-aged woman with greying hair, an old-fashioned pair of pince-nez glasses and a razor-sharp mind. "I have a question for Number Three," she said.

Across the table, Three gave her an inquiring look. She fixed him with a piercing stare. "I would like to know," she said slowly, "why 'S' Division is putting enormous resources and a quite incredible amount of time…into looking for a missing cat?"

Two seats away from her, Fifteen sat up suddenly. He was a younger man, with short fair hair. "A cat?" he asked, startled.

"Indeed. A cat." Thirteen looked around the table, frowning. "Judging from your reactions," she went on, "I assume that most of you knew about this already."

Three did not flinch; he simply raised his eyebrows. "It was discussed in one of our meetings several weeks ago," he said calmly. "I believe you were absent at the time. Did you not receive a briefing paper on the subject?"

Thirteen smiled sourly. "'S' Division briefing papers do not, of course, list every active investigation."

"Ah. So they don't."

"So would you care to tell me why you're looking for a cat?" she asked again.

"Wait a minute," said Fifteen, looking at the two intently. "Is this something to do with—" He hesitated, and glanced at the chairman. "I know you asked me not to talk about it openly—"

The chairman sighed, and steepled his gloved fingers on the desk in front of him. Three could carry on being polite and unhelpful almost indefinitely, but there was no point. Thirteen already knew too much; whether he liked it or not, it seemed that there was no hiding the affair now.

Still, he thought, perhaps it was still possible to make the search appear reasonably innocent—

"Very well," he said, drawing the others' attention instantly. "Let's go over this again. Just over a month ago, Number Fifteen observed a—a rather unique creature…"

Fifteen reddened. "I was feeding my own cats," he said, looking embarrassed. "There were a couple of strays in the alley behind the house. I threw them a bit of fish. And—" He shook his head in wonder. "One of them thanked me."

Around the table, the rest of the Council showed surprise—some of them more convincingly than others.

"A black cat?" asked Thirteen sharply. "Or a white one?"

"Neither," he said. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. But it was a tabby cat, and it didn't have a crescent moon on its forehead." He frowned suddenly. "It had a plain white circle instead. I don't know if that means anything or not. I didn't get a clear look at the other cat, I'm afraid."

"All the same…" mused Thirteen. She looked over at Three and said, "You're looking for a moon cat. Correct?"

"Potentially, yes," he admitted, unperturbed. Around the table, Twelve stirred, watching him with hooded eyes, but said nothing.

"Why?" she demanded. "And why in such a clumsy way? You've got agents running around all over Third Tokyo watching cats instead of doing their regular jobs! Do you _want_ to alienate the very people we're trying to contact?"

"It is not," Three said firmly, "quite that bad. The investigation is as restrained as we can make it. May I ask how you learned about it, incidentally?"

She visibly considered not replying. At last she said, "My nephew is one of your Irregular agents. He got a message a few weeks ago, telling him to look out for cats. A couple of days ago, he worked up the nerve to ask me why."

Three frowned. "His name, please? Irregulars are not permitted to disclose that they—"

"I suppose he thought a Council member could be trusted," she said, her tone acid. "Leave him alone, Ryobe. I mean it."

"Your wish is my command," Three answered sardonically, tugging an imaginary forelock. "Nevertheless—"

"Nevertheless," she interrupted, "why are you hunting the cat at all? I'd have thought that the last thing we want to do is annoy the Senshi. For heaven's sake, we just issued them an invitation to come and talk to us!"

"Of course we don't want to alienate them," put in the chairman smoothly. "But bear in mind that the investigation began before the Senshi began to appear. All we had at the time was a possible sighting of a Moon Cat; and of course we wanted to contact it. The directive to 'S' Division was only to _find_ the cat, remember; not to harm it." He caught Three's eye and held it as he added, "In any case, since the Senshi appeared, 'S' Division has been scaling the investigation down quietly."

Three gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement. The investigation would not be scaled down, of course; but he would see to it that it was kept quieter.

Thirteen leaned back in her seat, somewhat mollified but still looking unsatisfied. "Well, that's not so bad, I suppose," she muttered.

Fifteen shook his head, chuckling. "All this fuss, over one cat," he murmured. "It might have been better if I'd never mentioned it to you at all, Number One!"

"Quite." The chairman gave him a thin smile. He sneaked another quick glance at Twelve, but now she was simply listening to the argument, looking interested. Damn her, anyway.

Thirteen and Fifteen appeared satisfied, in any case. That was a minor victory. "Does anybody _else_ have any further business?" he asked with a sigh. This time there were headshakes all around the table. "Good. In that case—"

He opened a folder on the desk in front of him, and pulled out a long, heavy envelope. "I do have one more point. We have received a message from the Senshi. A reply to our offer to speak with them."

Around the table, everyone sat up. Murmurs of consternation filled the air. None of them had expected this. Twelve's eyes blazed with blue light for an instant; thankfully, neither Thirteen nor Fifteen noticed.

"It's difficult to be certain that it's genuine, of course," he went on calmly, opening the envelope and pulling out a single sheet of paper. "But I'm fairly confident that it is. There is a, ahh, seal at the bottom, in wax. Made with the head of a henshin wand, I suspect," he added with a dry smile. "The symbol is for Mars."

"Mars?" muttered Fifteen. "I didn't think Sailor Mars had appeared yet."

"Possibly a new, er, recruit," the chairman suggested. The new Mars had appeared three days before; but that had not been in public, and only Twelve had seen her.

"Odd that a new recruit should be their speaker," murmured Five.

"Never mind that," snapped Nine. "What does the message _say_?"

"I'll pass it around." The chairman handed the sheet to the councillor on his left. He'd already had both sheet and envelope tested for fingerprints or DNA traces. His people had found nothing, so there was no reason not to handle the message. "Essentially, it says that the Senshi appreciate our offer, but that they don't want to become, hmm, politically involved at this time."

"What? We were offering to help them, not involve them in politics!" burst out Fifteen.

"Is there a difference?" said Thirteen acidly. Fifteen snorted.

"In any case," the chairman interrupted, "they say that they will contact us if they need assistance…but for the moment, they have the situation well in hand, and would like us to, ahh, let them get on with it." He could not restrain a smile as he spoke. Well in hand, indeed!

His smile froze as he accidentally caught Twelve's eye. She held his gaze for an instant, then gave him a single, barely-detectable nod. Her lips parted for an instant, showing her teeth. He swallowed heavily.

Tearing his eyes away, he looked around the rest of the table, studying the others' reactions. Thirteen was the biggest potential problem. The re-appearance of the Senshi did not affect her portfolio, 'A' Division, but she had already noticed that the rest of the Council were keeping things from her. If she made too much of a nuisance of herself, he would have no choice but to initiate her, human perspective or not.

She frowned as he finished speaking; but then, slowly, the frown faded and she began to look thoughtful. The chairman relaxed. Uninitiated or not, Thirteen was still a politician.

The Serenity Council was sworn to govern "in the name of the Queen, until her return." If they chose, the Senshi could present a good case for replacing the Council. True, there was no sign yet that the Queen had returned; but still, things could get awkward. It would be bad publicity. Far better, if they wanted to concentrate on fighting evil instead…

All around the table, the councillors were nodding at the news. "That suits us fine, doesn't it?" said Eight.

"It will help lift a lot of the foreign pressure," noted Two.

"We can afford to let them continue as they are, I suppose?" asked Eleven.

"We'd stand to get lynched if we tried to stop them," said Seven. "Especially after that fire downtown. Hell, let them have their fights. They haven't done any major damage so far—"

"A number of people were hurt at the theatre," contradicted Nine.

Seven waved it off. "That was the monster, not the Senshi. Anyway, there were no fatalities…"

The chairman listened, well content. There _had_ been fatalities at the warehouse on Saturday; but that wasn't public knowledge, and none of his people would bring it up. Instead, all of them were playing their parts to the letter. An outsider, listening in, would have thought that the Council genuinely approved of what the Senshi were doing.

Even Thirteen and Fifteen, who were the only innocent ones there, seemed to be content. "They do seem to have better quick-response capabilities than 'P' Division," Thirteen was saying. "Of course, we should continue to monitor the situation…"

"Perhaps we should consider briefing 'P' Division to keep people clear when they're in action," added Fifteen. "Look at the way they were mobbed after that fire…"

The chairman smiled to himself. The Senshi had responded as he had hoped. Now the public would be satisfied, international pressure would ease, and he and the Council would have all the time they needed to push those silly girls into doing what they were supposed to do.

For a moment he felt a twinge of alarm, thinking of what the future would be like once that happened. Then, with the ease of long practise, he shrugged it off. Let the future take care of itself. That was the only way to stay sane…

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -

"What was bothering Miyo so much last night?" asked Artemis. "I said 'Good evening' to her and I thought she'd bite my head off."

"I'm not sure. She had a lead on Lady Blue that didn't pan out, but I think this is something different," said Itsuko calmly. "My guess is it's something to do with that boy at school. Hmm, how's this look?"

Artemis stared thoughtfully. "It's a little…daring, don't you think?" he said at last. "If it slips, people will be able to see everything."

Itsuko looked down, reconsidering. "I suppose so," she said reluctantly. "I just thought it looked…You're sure?"

"Quite sure," he told her firmly. "Try something a little less transparent. What _about_ this boy at school? You mean Mark?"

"Mm. First romance is always tough. And the topic's a little too, ahh, distant in her other two lives to give her much perspective this time around. Perfect memory or not."

"Plus she's sixteen again, with the hormones to match."

Itsuko sighed. "Well…yes. Also, she's scared to like him too much because she thinks he's Mamoru reborn. And she might be right…I wish you'd agree to check him out."

"Itsuko, you know why I don't want to do that. What if he _does_ turn out to be Mamoru? Do you really want to awaken his memories—and then have to tell him that Usagi's dead?"

She shuddered. "Not me. I'm just afraid that, sooner or later…we might need him." She shook her head, and looked down again. "What about this, then?" she asked presently. "Any improvement?"

Artemis looked it over. "Better," he said grudgingly. "But still too risky for my liking. One false move, and it'll all be out in the open. Face it, Itsuko. This just isn't going to work."

"Well, you suggest something then!" she snapped, slamming a fist on the pile of sketch-plans on the table in front of them. "I'm out of ideas. How are we supposed to hold a general Senshi training session, let them all really cut loose with their powers, without anyone noticing?"

"I don't know either!" he grumbled in return. "But the Olympus is just too risky. If it comes to that, anywhere in town is going to be dangerous. Look at what happened at that warehouse."

"Oh, I suppose so. But if nowhere in town's going to be safe—" She paused, looking suddenly thoughtful. "Wait a minute. What if we went out of the city entirely?"

"Like where? A town car won't do more than a couple of hundred kilometres before the battery's dead. That doesn't get you very far."

"Well, it does cover quite a bit of territory, actually," she said dryly. "But forget that. What if I could get hold of a long-range vehicle?"

Artemis gave her a skeptical look. "Long-range licenses are pretty hard to come by in the city," he pointed out. "Where would _you_ get one?"

"Well…it's not in my name. But—" She made an impatient gesture. "You know I have underworld contacts. I have to get new identity papers from time to time, apart from anything else. And, um…" She coughed into her fist, abruptly reluctant to meet his eyes. "I, er, kind of do a little smuggling, now and then. Just to keep my hand in."

He stared at her, open-mouthed. "Why, Hino Rei," he said in a mock-admiring tone. "You're a wanted criminal!"

"Don't be absurd," she sniffed. "I'm not wanted; nobody in authority knows a thing about me." She shrugged. "But I _do_ have transport. Alcohol engine; I could take us anywhere in Honshu if need be."

Artemis nodded, still taking it in. "I assume you have somewhere in mind?" he inquired.

"Well—there's a nice spot I know, a couple of hours out of Third Tokyo…"

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -

Miyo overslept on Wednesday morning, something she hadn't done in a long time. By the time Itsuko roused her, it was too late for breakfast. She ran out of the Olympus building with a piece of toast in her mouth, still buttoning up her jacket.

She reached school just seconds before the bell rang. She slipped through the gates and hurried into the building, panting—pausing for a second to wave to a surprised Kin and Dhiti, who had been hanging around waiting for her.

(Dhiti had still not said anything about their near-argument on Monday night. Maybe the girl had finally learned tact. But Miyo doubted it. Sooner or later, she would find a way to embarrass Miyo with the scene. In a perverse kind of way, Miyo almost looked forward to it.)

She was on time for class, just barely. That should have been the end of it. But the morning's classes dragged like molasses, and she found herself thinking about her new life. Her new home. If she could call it that.

Oversleeping on a school morning was bad enough; but Itsuko had had to catch her at it. She flushed, remembering. Somehow, being woken by a friend was far more humiliating than being woken by her mother.

Well, it seemed that she would have to get used to it. Settling into the suite at the top of the Olympus building had been a whole series of awkward experiences. It was a little like her past life, when her parents had died and she had had to survive on her own; but this time she was trying to adjust to a new life with someone who knew her almost as well as she knew herself. She'd thought that it would be a simple thing, but instead, the opportunities for awkwardness and embarrassment were almost unlimited.

Reaching an agreement on sharing a bathroom; making a roster for laundry, cleaning and other chores; those were the tip of the iceberg. She also had to share her room, one night a week, with Ochiyo, the Olympus' part-time receptionist, whom Itsuko allowed to sleep over when the girl had a late shift. Neither of them knew what to say to each other (Ochiyo was obviously bursting with curiosity about Miyo, but didn't seem to dare to ask), so those nights were rather strained.

The worst thing so far had been the time last week, when she'd had to go to Itsuko, shame-faced, and ask for an allowance.

Now that had been an awkward situation: begging a friend for money. She hadn't thought about it when she'd asked Itsuko to take her in; but now she had to face the reality. For the next few years, until she finished college and maybe for a while afterward, she was going to be dependent on Itsuko for food, clothing…everything. Unless she could find a way to make her family take her back—

She quashed the thought, knowing where it led, and tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying. It didn't work for very long. She found herself thinking about money again. Maybe if she could get a job? After all, Ochiyo worked part-time at the Olympus. But Miyo wouldn't want to work at the gym herself; it would be, well, too close to home, as it were.

Then she realised that she couldn't afford to get a job at all; not if she wanted to be free to run out to fight vitrimorphs, she couldn't. She was stuck. She felt like a…a kept woman. No, that was ridiculous. She really felt as if she had exchanged one family for another. For Itsuko. But that was ridiculous too, wasn't it?

She sighed and tried to pay attention as the teacher talked about second derivatives. It was a very long morning.

- - -

Thank the gods for friends.

Dhiti and Kin intercepted her as she went outside for lunch. Before she could escape, they had her cornered. She put up a token fight; then, with an inner sigh that was equal parts resignation and relief, she let them sweep her away.

"So, where were _you_ this morning?" demanded Kin.

"I overslept," Miyo answered innocently. She knew it was not going to work, but that was part of the game.

"You? Overslept?" Dhiti shook her head sadly. In a bizarre accent she went on, "Vhy do you persist in zese foolish games, Fräulein Hayashi? You know ve haf vays of making you talk. Zo, I ask vun more time: vhere vere you?"

"Off on some steamy early-morning romantic interlude?" suggested Kin, rather spoiling the effect.

Miyo looked pained. "Will you cut it out?" she said. "You guys go into this act every time I—"

"Ahh, I can see it now," Dhiti said, dropping her accent and fluttering her eyelashes madly. "'Oh, Mark, Mark,' she moans passionately, 'you're everything I've always dreamed of. Oh, my noble warrior…make me…a _woman_.' And he takes her in his arms and—"

"Okay," said Miyo. "I take it back. You don't do _this_ every time."

"Will you pipe down?" complained Dhiti. "I was just getting warmed up."

Kin snorted. "Steamed up, more like it."

"What?" Dhiti blinked, then suddenly flushed. "And people say I have a dirty mind," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Miyo had to grin. "I don't know about dirty," she commented. "Slightly twisted, maybe."

The dark-skinned girl smiled. "You say the sweetest things, Hayashi," she cooed. With a sly glance at Miyo, she added, "I notice you don't deny the fantasies about your noble warrior, though."

"I—" Miyo hastily suppressed her first reaction, which called for extreme violence, and fixed Dhiti with a frosty glare. "I am not talking about Mark," she stated. "I am not even _thinking_ about Mark."

"Hmmm." Kin studied her through narrowed eyes. Then she looked over at Dhiti. "What do you think?" she asked, barely concealing a smirk. "Is she telling the truth or not?"

"Well, I'm not sure." There was an impish light in Dhiti's eyes. "You know, if I were Sailor Mercury, I could just whip out my computer and check." She mimed waving a device in Miyo's direction and intoned, "Credibility rating: negligible."

"Yeah, true," said Kin, grinning. "And if I were, uh, Sailor Moon, I could fire one of my Crescent Heart Whatsits at the two of them and make them fall madly in love and live happily ever after!"

Miyo suppressed several more reactions and said, "Yes, and if I were Sailor Pluto, maybe I could speed time up so you two would grow up a little."

Dhiti shot her a wounded look. "Now, that wasn't nice. Was that nice?" she asked Kin.

"Not nice at all," Kin judged.

"We need to do something about this."

"Definitely."

"Hmm. Bucket of water over her head?"

"Neither of us is tall enough," Kin pointed out. "Drop a slug down her back?"

"No, she likes slugs. Hmm, let me see—"

Miyo groaned. "Dhiti-chan, am I going to tell you _again_ to lay off the slug jokes?"

"Do you know, I think you are?"

"Look, will you—"

"I've got it!" Kin shouted. "The perfect revenge!"

"Ooh, tell me more," simpered Dhiti. Miyo clutched her head in pain.

"It's very simple, and at the same time fiendishly appropriate," Kin gloated. "Observe…"

She jumped up in the air, waving an arm at somebody on the other side of the grounds, and shouted, "Hey, Wright-kun! Mark! Over here!"

Some distance off, Mark and Liam were lounging against the wall, talking. At Kin's shout, Mark turned his head. When he caught sight of the threesome, he grinned and started toward them.

Miyo flinched. "You traitor!" she hissed. "Okay, that does it, I've had—"

"Grab her!" shouted Dhiti. She and Kin leaped on Miyo, wrestling her to the ground. For an instant Miyo struggled, almost breaking free; then, with a sigh of resignation, she gave in and relaxed. If she just kept her head, she could get through this. There was a kind of sense of inevitability about it.

Thank the gods for friends.

"Kin-chan, that was brilliant," Dhiti rambled on, oblivious. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Well, I _am_ the smart one of us three," Kin said modestly.

"You are?" asked Dhiti in well-feigned surprise.

"Sure. You just think you are because I broke into the school records and switched our IQ test results."

"Oh." Dhiti thought about it. "Well, all right, then. But I'll tell you, if you switched Hayashi's too, so I'm actually the dumbest one of us, I'm going to be very upset with you."

"My lips are sealed," Kin assured her.

"Hey!" Miyo protested. "Are you saying _I'm_ the dumbest one of us?"

There was a slight pause. Then Dhiti said, "So, Kin-chan, how was your weekend?"

"Oh, not bad—"

"Hey!" said Miyo again. "I said—"

"—Though I was trying to get hold of you all Sunday, and your mother kept saying she didn't know where you were."

"Hmm," Dhiti said. "I was out studying some…ancient history. Kind of a private project."

"Oh." Kin frowned for an instant, and said, "And I suppose Miyo-chan was off on a mad, passionate date with Mark-kun all day?"

Dhiti raised her eyebrows. "What a fascinating idea. Hayashi, were you out on a—well, perhaps not," she murmured, seeing Miyo's expression. "Anyway," she went on to Kin, "if you wanted to know about her and Mark-chan, couldn't you have just asked Liam-kun…while you were out on _your_ mad, passionate date?"

She and Miyo watched with delight as Kin turned bright scarlet. The girl was spared having to answer, however, as Mark finally ambled up.

"Hel-lo," he said, studying the pile of bodies with interest. "Is this some kind of weird threesome?"

Dhiti eeped. "No!" she said, trying to scramble off Miyo.

"Yes!" shouted Kin at the same time, grinning wickedly and holding her back down.

"Just get off me," mumbled Miyo from the bottom of the pile. Her face was now wedged into Dhiti's chest and it was difficult to breathe.

"Your wish is my command," answered Mark cheerfully. Before she could say that she hadn't been talking to _him_, she heard a startled squawk from Kin, and the weight on top of her lessened. Dhiti vanished a moment later, and she was staring up at a face that she emphatically did not want to have to deal with.

He raised his eyebrows, and she suddenly realised how she must look, lying there. Cheeks flaming, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the hand he offered to help her up.

They stood staring at each other. He was only a fraction taller than her, she realised. The moment seemed to stretch, and she felt a sudden wild hope that, somehow, this might not go wrong.

Then he smiled, and the possibility was gone. She saw his face; her father's face; the faces of the students that mocked her. A sea of eyes, watching her wherever she went. The laughter, and the taunts. Friends who suddenly would not acknowledge her. Mark's innocent smile, and his oh-so-innocent questions that drew it all down upon her.

Her good humour of seconds before was utterly gone, swept away by a tide of resentment. The hopeful look on his face only made it worse. With a sense of inevitability, she knew that this moment had been approaching for some time.

"Well?" she demanded.

His smile faded. "Well what?" he said. "Hey, they called me, remember?"

"Oh, and I'm sure you just came over to talk to Dhiti-chan and Kin-chan."

"Miyo-san…" He took a deep breath, visibly composing his reply. "I have apologised," he said. "Frequently."

"Maybe I don't want your apologies," she retorted. "Why can't you just go away? Or find someone else to beat up?" she added nastily.

Finally, there was a glint of anger in his eyes. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?" he said, his voice tight.

"Why should I care? Damn you, I never asked you to defend me!"

"Maybe I _wanted_ to defend you."

"And what gives you the right?" she shouted. "You don't _own_ me! This has got nothing to do with you!"

"Oh?" He was breathing quickly; his cheeks were pale. "I'd say it has everything to do with me."

"With _you_?" It was too much. Her temper finally snapped. She lashed out blindly, catching him on the left shoulder, and heard his grunt of pain. Her other fist aimed itself directly at his face—

And came to a sudden halt, caught in his right hand.

Again, they stared at each other. They were almost nose to nose now. "Just…go away," she whispered. "Leave me alone, can't you?"

"How?" he asked. His voice cracked in mid-word. "How?"

"Give me space," she asked. Her fist slipped from his hand, dropped to her side. Behind him, she could see Kin and Dhiti watching them, wide-eyed. "Let me breathe. Please."

She saw the unwilling acceptance in his face. Before he could say anything more she spun around and started away from the other three, moving fast, almost running, toward the school building.

She looked back, a second later. Kin and Dhiti were following her.

Thank the gods for friends.

- - -

Finally, at the end of a long, slow afternoon, Miyo trudged toward the school gates. She had slept late that morning, but somehow she still felt exhausted. She longed for nothing more than to get home, have a hot bath, and take a nap for a couple of hours before she had to make dinner. And absolutely, definitely not think of Mark.

She sighed, and determinedly pushed the thought aside. Life was just too complicated sometimes. Maybe she should talk to Itsuko about it; after all, she'd had to deal with Yuuichiro, long ago. But somehow, the idea of talking to Itsuko about men made her want to cringe.

Thank goodness the day was over at last, and she could walk home and lie down and maybe forget about things for a while…

Naturally, Dhiti was waiting for her at the gate. Miyo stifled a groan and watched as a little winged picture of a bed flew past in her mind's eye.

"That was quite a scene at lunch-time," Dhiti said cheerfully, falling in step with her. "Give us some warning next time, though, huh? I think Kin-chan wants to sell tickets."

"Aargh." Miyo tried not to think about it.

"Are you okay, Hayashi? You've been looking kind of…ragged all day." Dhiti herself looked in the peak of health. Naturally. "Look, don't let Mark-chan get to you. Do something to take your mind off it. Hey, I saw a poster for a hang-gliding club a couple of days ago. I'm thinking of joining that, maybe you should give it a try too—"

"I do not," Miyo said with great restraint, "want to join a hang-gliding club." As a matter of fact, eight hundred years ago she had gone hang-gliding in the Pyrenees; but if she mentioned that she'd never hear the end of it.

"…Right." Dhiti walked in silence for a few moments. Then, in quite a different tone of voice, she said, "Look, why not just come downtown with me? I need to get some new running shoes. Maybe we could find some more of those godawful romances you read all the time…"

Miyo shook her head; but she had to smile. "Maybe some other time," she said wryly. "I have to watch my money."

"Oh? I could lend you something—"

"Hah! I don't know which would be worse: owing you or Itsuko."

"Itsuko-san?" Dhiti looked startled. "I hadn't thought of that. You mean, you have to—"

"Yeah, well." Miyo gave a resigned shrug. "I don't exactly have a lot to my name any more. Not even a name, really, if it comes to that. Itsuko managed to get a few of my clothes before my father threw her out of the house, but not much else."

Dhiti whistled idly between her teeth. "Not a lot, huh?" She seemed to be on the point of saying something more, but then caught herself. "Look, come on downtown anyway. At least I can buy you an ice cream, or something."

"Oh, sure. You mean I get one ice cream, and then I have to sit and watch while _you_ have three, right?"

"Something like that." Dhiti smirked. "So, you coming?"

"Oh…all right."

Thank the gods…

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -

That evening Beth's patience, and her nerves, finally wore out. Miyo had promised to investigate the deaths at the warehouse, but since then Beth had heard nothing. Quite apart from any other consideration, the tension was killing her.

When she tried Miyo's communicator, though, there was no reply. She tried several times, just to be sure. At last, seriously worried, she asked Bendis for advice.

"Are you sure?" the cat asked, staring at the communicator dubiously. "Miyo-san's pretty experienced, remember. She wouldn't just take her communicator off and forget about it."

"I told you," Beth said impatiently, "I tried it three times already. Anyway," she sniffed, "I don't know what's so great about all that 'experience' of hers. She isn't any better than the rest of us. I bet if I tried, I could wrap her up in my Chain Thing before she twitched."

"Sure, sure," the cat soothed her. "You're ten times better than her, and nothing gets past you at all. Of course," she added casually, "she did have to bail you out at the warehouse the other day…"

"That was a fluke! The next time I see Lady Blue I'll hit her so hard she'll be—"

"_You_ will? Don't you mean Sailor Venus?"

Beth hesitated. "Well…it's the same thing, isn't it? More or less," she said uncertainly. "Anyway, that's beside the point—"

"And keep your voice down, will you? Your mother's in the living room. Sometimes I think you _want_ people to work out who you are."

"Oh, now you're just being silly. I mean—look, never mind that! What are we going to do about Miyo-san? Maybe there's something wrong!"

"Don't get over-excited," Bendis urged her. "Calm down and try it again."

Beth did so. There was still no reply.

- - -

Some distance away, in the Olympus building, Hayashi Miyo stepped into the bath with a sigh of pure pleasure. Itsuko was downstairs, leading an aerobics class. Ochiyo wasn't due up until later. She was alone in the apartment for at least an hour. At last, she could relax.

It had been an exhausting day. All that business at school, and then a whirlwind tour of the local shopping district with Dhiti, had left her feeling as if she hadn't slept for a week. Now, finally, she had some time to herself.

The hot water on her skin was delicious. She lay back and closed her eyes with a happy smile.

In her bedroom, lying on her little chest of drawers, her communicator started to bleep again. Miyo never heard a thing.

- - -

"Still nothing," Beth said unnecessarily. "Are you sure this thing couldn't just be worn out, Bendis-chan?"

Bendis shook her head, and nosed the device gently. "They were made back at the founding of the Silver Millennium," she mused. "Weland himself is supposed to have designed them, and he was magewright to Serenity the First—"

Beth held the communicator up to her ear and shook it. Bendis gave up and closed her mouth.

"You know," the girl said slowly, "Lady Blue knows all about that warehouse. Last Saturday, she had an ambush set up for us. If Miyo went back there on Monday night…"

"…She might have been walking into a trap?" Bendis finished. She frowned. "But Beth-chan, that was two days ago. Surely—"

"You're right!" Beth exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Anything could have happened to her by now! Bendis, we have to do something! We have to save her!"

"That _wasn't_ what I meant," Bendis muttered. She could have shouted it, but she was pretty sure that it wouldn't have done any good. Beth was already stabbing at her communicator again.

This time she got a response. "Iku-chan?" she burst out. "Miyo-san's in trouble! You've got to meet us at the warehouse, as soon as possible!"

"…Warehouse?" came an uncertain voice in reply.

"You know, the place where we were on Saturday! Hurry!" Beth broke the connection without further ado. She paused, her finger on the button to make another call. "Oh, what was her name? Shizu…Sazae…"

"Suzue?" suggested Bendis diffidently. She was beginning to enjoy the spectacle of Beth trying to take charge.

"Yes!" Beth stabbed at the button. When a surprised voice answered, she gabbled out, "Hello, Beth-san? It's Suzue-chan. Listen, we—no, wait, you're not Beth, I'm Uranus. No, Venus! Wait, I—" She floundered to a halt. "Well, you know who I am!" she snapped at last.

"Um. Possibly," said Suzue dryly.

"Anyway, Miyo-chan's in trouble! Can you meet us at the warehouse as soon as possible? The place from Saturday—"

"On my way," Suzue answered. The communicator fell silent. Beth blinked at it.

"Nicely done," Bendis commented smoothly. "Now Dhiti-san, I suppose?"

Beth's face tautened with resolution. "No time!" she shouted. "We have to hurry! VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!"

Dancing light filled the room. Before Bendis could quite see again, she felt a pair of hands pick her up; and moments later, she found herself flying swiftly through cool evening air. In a flash of surprise, she realised that Venus must have made a standing jump out of her bedroom window, all without using her hands for balance or to steady herself. It was quite an impressive move, especially considering that she didn't remember Venus practising it before.

The last of the afterimages faded from her eyes, and she saw that they were bouncing across the rooftops. Venus ran at a steady, even pace, her feet touching down on each roof lightly, unerringly and almost soundlessly. Her breathing was slow and regular. If it had not been for the rush of cold air in her fur, whiskers and ears, Bendis could have sworn that they were not moving at all. She felt…safe.

After a little, she said experimentally, "Why not Dhiti-san?"

"Oh." Venus sounded evasive. "Well…we don't need her, do we? I mean, three Senshi should be enough to handle it, right?"

Bendis waited.

"Besides," Venus muttered, "she's…you know. Sort of weird."

Bendis opened her mouth to make a sarcastic reply, and then closed it again with a mental sigh. What would be the point?

She did not for a moment believe that Miyo was in trouble, but this excursion would make a good impromptu training exercise for the girls. Without Artemis around, even. It would be handy to see how the other two reacted to the emergency callout; and it would give her a chance to evaluate Sailor Uranus, and try to work on Mars' attitude a bit. All in all, not a bad way to spend an evening.

And of course, if there actually _was_ any trouble, then Venus was probably right; three Senshi should be able to handle it. Besides, it occurred to her that these particular three were the Senshi that Bendis herself had found. If anything did happen, it would be a triumphant vindication of her skills. What could possibly go wrong? Either way, she won.

"Absolutely," she answered firmly.

- - -

Venus and Uranus arrived at the warehouse at about the same time. Venus motioned for the other Senshi to take cover in a sheltered spot, and Uranus obeyed, looking a little puzzled.

Sailor Mars ran up a few minutes later, panting. Venus made a mental note to teach her roof-hopping as soon as possible, and immediately forgot about it again. She poked her head out from behind a rusting iron boiler and beckoned the girl over.

"What's happened?" asked Uranus, joining them. "You said there was some kind of trouble, but everything seems quiet."

In a hushed voice, Venus quickly told them about the bodies. "And when I called obaasan about it, I mean Jupiter, she said she wanted to get Sailor Mercury to check the place out," she finished. "But she never called back! And now there's no answer on the communicator!"

Uranus' eyes narrowed. "You think there was another trap?" she asked. "Something left over from the weekend?"

"Right!" Venus hissed excitedly. "They must have walked right into it! And now Lady Blue's probably just waiting for us, too! I mean, just _look_ at this place! It's _too_ quiet!"

The three girls looked around the yard: a broad, open area between a group of abandoned warehouses, littered with junk and the rusting hulks of abandoned industrial equipment. In the fading light, it _did_ look sinister.

"So what do we do?" asked Mars nervously.

"We move in," Venus announced. "Try and stick to cover, and keep in contact at all times. If you find anything, don't try to attack by yourself. Call for help. If this thing was strong enough to take out Jupiter and Mercury, we can't take any chances. Ready?"

Uranus gave a brisk nod. Mars only stared at her, looking appalled. Then the Senshi of Fire visibly caught hold of herself; she steadied, and a kind of shaky determination appeared in her face. She, too, nodded.

The three moved in.

Behind them, Bendis kept her silence with some difficulty. Venus had forgotten, she noticed, to tell the others it had been two days since she'd spoken to Miyo. And why on earth did she think that Mercury was caught in the trap too, when she herself had decided not to call Mercury just a few minutes before?

Still, her plan of attack was actually a good one. Intrigued, and beginning to enjoy herself tremendously, Bendis followed them into the warehouse yard. Nobody stuck to cover like a cat.

Just in case, she kept an eye open for traps.

- - -

Sailor Uranus crept through the yard, keeping low and wishing that her Senshi uniform didn't have quite so much white in it. Even in this half-light, she must stick out like a sore thumb.

(Whoever had designed it, she decided—not for the first time—must have been more concerned with appearances than practicality. And he had _definitely_ been a man.)

The warehouse yard seemed totally silent. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing, slow and regular. She paused in thought. Should there have been birds singing, at this hour? She could not remember.

She reached the base of a rusting crane and drew herself up slowly to peer through the ribbing of its lowered arm. As she did so, there was a sudden faint clatter, directly above her. She recoiled, automatically raising an arm to launch her attack.

The words died on her lips, stillborn. Sailor Venus was standing on top of the crane, looking down at her.

"Sorry," Venus said in a low voice. Even with Uranus' enhanced eyesight she could barely make out the other girl's face, but she didn't think she looked sorry at all. "Didn't know you were there."

Uranus stared up at her. "What are you _doing_?" she asked.

Venus threw her a sly wink. "Aerial reconnaissance," she said. Then, before Uranus' stunned eyes, she bent down into an odd half-crouch, lifting her hindquarters into the air—for all the world like a giant cat—and sprang from the crane, leaping high into the air. Uranus could just see her catch a protruding iron bar some distance away, twirl around it once like a gymnast, and then flip herself into the air again. A moment later, she had vanished into the gloom.

Uranus dropped flat on the ground, wincing and waiting for the crash. Instead, there was only silence.

_I didn't just see that,_ she decided.

"She's pretty good, isn't she?" said a voice at her elbow. Uranus stifled a yelp. This time it was Bendis.

She stared at the cat for a few seconds, trying to put words to the moment. At last she asked, "Is that girl crazy?"

"Quite possibly," Bendis answered cheerfully. "I'm very proud of her." Then, before Uranus could react, she went on, "You're moving too slowly. I'm going to have to do something about your training."

Uranus considered this for some time. "I thought the idea was to keep quiet," she hissed back.

"That doesn't mean go slowly," Bendis said didactically. "Venus wasn't making any noise, was she?"

"No," Uranus protested, "but she was—"

"Look, it's perfectly simple. Just think like a cat. How hard can that be?" Before she could answer, Bendis turned and vanished into the darkness. Silently.

Uranus sat for a minute, looking after the cat. She was, she thought, beginning to get an idea of why Venus acted the way she did.

Still, Bendis was right about one thing: she _was_ moving too slowly. Uranus got up and, keeping very low, began to make her way forward once more.

- - -

Sailor Mars crept through the warehouse yard, ghosting her way almost invisibly from shadow to shadow. Even her uniform, bright white and red, somehow seemed to blend into the darkness. Bendis, prowling around the yard in search of her, missed her completely. If there was one thing that Kodama Iku was very good at, it was avoiding attention.

She was still not certain what she was meant to be doing here, or why the others thought that _she_ could help; but one thing had been very clear in Venus' hurried briefing. Miyo and Dhiti were in danger. And both of them had been…kind to her.

One of the buildings up ahead was covered with 'P' Division tape. Mars looked at it for some time, swallowed, then steeled herself and made her way cautiously to the nearest window. After a quick, nervous glance around, she made to stand and look inside.

At the last moment, her courage failed her. Venus had mentioned bodies.

She sank back in the shadows, shaking. Then, with a little gasp, almost inaudible in the gloom, she choked the fear back. Miyo and Dhiti needed her help.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to move once more, making her way around toward the rear of the building. Maybe…maybe there would be something useful she could do there. Something.

Gradually, as she slunk onward, she became aware that there was a sound coming from somewhere: faint, almost at the border of imagination, a deep bass humming. She turned her head, trying to locate it. It seemed familiar somehow.

As she rounded the corner of the building, a sudden wash of multicoloured light filled her eyes.

- - -

Venus leaped down from the roof, landing soundlessly on the dirty concrete below. She looked around quickly, saw nothing suspicious, grinned, and ducked into a patch of shadow to give herself time to think.

She had covered most of the yard now. In the fading twilight, it had been quite a challenge, and she had had marvellous fun doing it. She had given Uranus a very satisfactory fright, and had spied on the girl several times since, unseen. She had even managed to sneak up on Bendis once or twice. She hadn't found Mars yet, but she was sure that it was only a matter of time. It was the best game she'd played in ages; she would have to remember to do this again.

Something about that thought bothered at her, and after a moment she remembered what. She wasn't here to play games; she was here to save Jupiter and Mercury. Pity. Still, that was almost as good, and at least she could be pretty sure that there were no traps in the yard. Definitely not up on the roofs, anyway.

That left inside the buildings. Her grin faded, replaced by a more thoughtful look as she remembered the last time she'd had to break into a building. All right, then; time to be serious. Now, she was a hero on an important mission. It was time to play the Responsible Leader.

Backup. She didn't want to face Lady Blue alone again if she could help it. She touched her communicator, and after a second Uranus answered. "What is it?" the girl said tersely.

"I don't think there's anything out here in the yard," Venus whispered. "It'd make more sense for them to be held inside anyway. Can you meet me at the building where they found the bodies?"

"Right. I haven't found anything either," Uranus said. Then, almost immediately, she said, "Hold on. The enemy wouldn't still be using that building, surely? They'd pick a less obvious one."

Venus considered this. Logically, it made sense. Dramatically, it was obviously impossible. "Er. I don't think so," she answered, thinking fast. "It's not just the bodies, remember. There were all those photographs of me, too. That might mean that somebody wanted to draw attention there."

"Which means the trap was probably in that room," Uranus replied. "Good point. I'll meet you there."

She broke contact sharply. Venus sat blinking at her suddenly-dead communicator, then shrugged. It really had been a good point, after all. She just wished she had thought of it sooner.

She stood up and ran lightly through the yard toward the building with the 'P' Division markers. Uranus was waiting for her. The other Senshi indicated the door with a meaningful gesture. Venus looked and saw for the first time that it was standing slightly open.

The two Senshi exchanged glances. This was an invitation.

"What do you think?" asked Venus in a whisper. "Take them by surprise? I'll go in first; you cover me."

Uranus hesitated; then, reluctantly, she nodded.

Venus stepped back from the door and took two or three quick breaths. She could not help grinning with anticipation. Then she tensed herself, filled her lungs, and charged.

She hit the door with her shoulder, bursting it open, and dove forward in a roll. (Not a cat-manoeuvre; she had seen this one in an old movie.) An instant later she was on her feet again, hands raised, ready to strike at the first enemy to show himself.

Nothing happened.

She looked around, puzzled but still alert. It was very dark inside, but her eyesight was much better as a Senshi. The room was nearly empty. There was an old wooden table with a couple of chairs in one corner. The floor was covered with police markers. That was all.

Uranus joined her, glancing around the room quickly. "Nothing here?" she asked in a low whisper.

"No," Venus admitted. "I was so sure—"

"Wait, what's this?" Uranus knelt down, examining a small box attached to one wall. She had to close the door to get to it. "Some kind of alarm," she announced after a moment. "It's switched off. Just as well, or we'd be having company—"

Their communicators bleeped.

Venus looked down at her wrist, startled, and tapped at the control to activate it. "Hello—?" she began.

Mars' face appeared on the tiny screen. She looked terrified. "Venus-san, Uranus-san!" she blurted out. "Watch out! They're here at the back of the building! They have an—"

Her voice choked off suddenly. Horrified, Venus saw an arm loop around her neck. Then the transmission was cut.

There was a thunderous rattle at the door. As they turned, shocked, it began to swing open.

- - -

"A girl dressed as _what_?" Iwahashi Toru stared incredulously. This was the last thing he'd expected, and the kami knew he'd been expecting just about every other kind of problem.

"A Sailor Senshi," Mitsuzuka repeated. "Sailor Mars, I think."

"Oh, wonderful." Iwahashi ran a hand over his face, and resisted an impulse to scream. This could not be happening. He was a very junior 'M' Division manager, and this was the first time he'd ever been put in command of anything. It was turning out to be even worse than he'd expected.

"She…she isn't for real, is she?" he quavered.

Mitsuzuka kept his face tactfully blank. "I doubt it," he said. "She didn't try to put up any kind of fight at all. She was playing with her wristwatch when we caught her." He shook his head in mild distaste. "Besides," he added, "there isn't a new Sailor Mars yet anyway." From his tone, that was conclusive evidence.

Iwahashi dithered, trying to decide what to do. This assignment had looked so simple and straightforward back at the office. Just take an Opal out to an abandoned warehouse and remove a burglar alarm. What could be easier?

There were odd aspects to the job, true. They were supposed to do it in the middle of the night, for some inane reason. Iwahashi, flushed with the excitement of his first command, had corrected the mistake and substituted a more rational hour. He was beginning to wonder if that had been such a good idea.

Also, the order sheet said that they were to remove any sign that the alarm had ever been there. It was true that 'M' Division did do some technical work for the security agencies (some of the wags liked to call them 'Q' Division, though Iwahashi had never understood why), but…an alarm at an abandoned warehouse? This was ridiculous.

Then there was the note stressing that the work must be carried out secretly, with no possible link back to 'M' Division. (Whatever _that_ was supposed to mean.) And the order was signed "Araki". Iwahashi had had a bad moment when he'd read that name; but then he'd thought better of it. What would Number Twelve of the Serenity Council have to do with an abandoned warehouse? It was bound to be someone else with the same name.

All the same…

He sighed once more and rubbed his eyes. The situation felt almost as if he were involved in some kind of crime, and a real Senshi had just caught him.

"Did she see the other two men?" he asked plaintively.

"No. They've gone around to get the alarm. It shouldn't take long, they ought to be back in a few minutes."

"Thank goodness for that, at least." Iwahashi massaged his forehead. He was beginning to get a headache. "Now, what are we supposed to do about the girl?"

Mitsuzuka cleared his throat and Iwahashi looked up, surprised. "Just a thought," Mitsuzuka said, "but if we aren't supposed to let anyone know what we're doing here, then…suppose we give her something else to think about…?"

- - -

A brilliant light shone into the room, dazzling Venus and Uranus. Through the glare, they could just make out two men standing in the doorway. One of them was shining a powerful torch right into their eyes. The other carried a large, bulky bundle—doubtless a weapon of some kind.

The two groups, the Senshi and the attackers, stared at each other for a long, frozen moment. It would have been hard to say which of them was the more startled.

Then Venus let out a wild yell and charged.

The lead man had just enough time to let out a yip of surprise before she bowled him over, sending the torch flying. It hit the far wall with a tinkle of broken glass and went out. The room was plunged into darkness once more.

Uranus kept her head. When the light vanished, she ducked quickly to one side and kept low, waiting for the spots to clear from her eyes. She heard yells, then a crash. The man Venus had hit was shouting something about burglars. Venus was shouting about vitrimorphs.

Something was beginning to feel wrong about this whole situation.

- - -

Iwahashi stepped out of the Opal, Mitsuzuka following behind him, and strode up to the man who was holding the would-be Sailor Mars. He looked the girl over confidently.

The confidence wasn't hard to come by. She seemed totally cowed by the attention. A skinny, frightened-looking thing; he was surprised that she'd ever had the nerve to put the Senshi costume on.

"So!" he said sternly. She winced away from him in a very gratifying way. "The Senshi want to interfere in our operation, do they? You will live to regret that decision!"

She stared up at him, wide-eyed and frozen, but did not speak.

He tried again. "Or perhaps not," he hissed. "After all, we cannot let you live to tell the tale, can we? Perhaps I ought to…make an example of you." With some difficulty, he resisted a bizarre impulse to add, "Harharhar!"

White-faced, plainly terrified, she licked her lips. "But," she whispered almost inaudibly, "but…you have an Opal. I thought you were the police…"

"The police?" he sneered, getting even further into the act. "Ha! Of course not! We are merely—"

"'M' Division," she whispered.

"What?" Iwahashi followed her gaze, and saw the division logo on his jacket. He cleared his throat hurriedly and said, "'M' Division? Ha! Of course not! We are merely in disguise." He gave her a threatening leer. "And I see that you have fallen into our trap, little Senshi!"

Her mouth worked soundlessly.

"We are the Sankaku Clans," he told her in a villainous rasp, "and you can never hope to defeat us! Why," he added, improvising wildly, "we have another two of you prisoner already! Harharhar!"

"Then it's true," she whispered. "Jupiter and Mercury…"

"Of course!" he crowed, wondering what she was talking about. "You!" he barked to the man holding her. "Put her on board the Opal, with her team-mates. Or—no! On second thought…" He made a dramatic gesture and said grandly, "Let her stay here, and watch the capture and execution of her friends!"

She sank to her knees, shaking, with tears welling up in her eyes. Iwahashi noted this with great satisfaction and took the opportunity to lean forward and whisper to the man holding her, "When she tries to escape, let her go."

The man gave him a quick grin and winked. Iwahashi nodded back, then turned to Mitsuzuka, snapped his fingers imperiously, and said, "Come, lackey. Let us see to the elimination of the last of the Senshi."

"Yes, Master," Mitsuzuka said respectfully. Under his breath he added, "Don't let it go to your head." Iwahashi smirked back at him.

They started away from the girl. "I didn't know we work for the Sankaku," Mitsuzuka commented as they went.

"Life is full of surprises," Iwahashi told him cheerfully. Everything was working out perfectly after all. "You know," he added, "maybe I should have been an actor." Suddenly he felt very, very good about this mission—

Slowly, he came to a halt. There seemed to be an awful lot of noise coming from around the other side of the warehouse.

- - -

Sailor Uranus stepped gingerly outside, and took a quick glance around. The yard was echoing with shouts and muffled oaths as the two men chased Venus (or possibly it was the other way around), but for now, nobody was in sight. She decided to leave them to Venus' tender mercy. The girl was obviously enjoying herself.

She had been starting to think that there was no trap at all, that this whole rescue expedition was nothing but a product of Venus' fertile imagination. But then Mars had certainly been captured by somebody; and the two men had to be part of it somehow. Only, why had they been shouting about burglars?

A movement caught her eye and she whirled, hands at the ready to attack. She relaxed when she saw it was Bendis.

"Well?" she asked the cat in a low voice. "Any suggestions? Have you any idea what's actually going _on_ here?"

"Er. Not exactly," Bendis admitted. "I saw some kind of light around the back, and I was coming to warn you and Venus when—"

"The back," Uranus murmured to herself. "Mars." That had to be the priority now. Venus looked like she could take care of herself, though Uranus was becoming seriously worried about the girl's mental health. She'd been pretty wild at the meeting last weekend, but this was almost ridiculous. Worse, it seemed…inappropriate.

No. Never mind that now. She had to rescue Mars. Possibly Jupiter and Mercury as well.

She bent down and picked up Bendis. Then, taking a deep breath—she'd never done this before—she took three quick steps forward, and leaped up onto the roof.

It was easier than she'd expected; she almost overshot and came down on the other side of the building. "Not bad," Bendis said in her ear, "but you don't need to hold your arms out in front of you like that. Flying lessons come later." Uranus gave her an incredulous stare, and the cat added, "Joke."

_She's only two years old,_ Uranus reminded herself. _She's only two years old._ Actually, that in itself might explain a lot—

She put the thought aside for later, crouched down, and peered down at the area on the other side of the building. Involuntarily, she flinched at the sight.

An Opal had set down in the centre of the parking lot. Its landing lights were on, a bank of white, yellow, orange and blue, and she could see the rounded trapezoid of its hull clearly. Three men were standing near the door. One of them was holding Sailor Mars.

"The police," she whispered. "Of course…"

"Don't be so sure," Bendis whispered back. "Those aren't 'P' Division uniforms."

A particularly loud whoop of glee came from the yard behind them, followed by a long, rending crash and a shattering sound. Bendis and Uranus flinched as one.

Two of the men started to walk away from the third, who still held on to Mars. It looked as if they were going around to investigate the noise around the back. Uranus decided that she was not likely to get a better opportunity, and stood up.

It didn't matter if the men were 'P' Division or not. She had her own reasons to dislike the police…or any other Council division.

"What are you doing?" Bendis hissed at her. "You can't go down there! If they're not police, they're probably 'S' Division!"

Uranus ignored her, took one more quick look to check the angles, and jumped. She landed directly in front of the two men.

As she straightened up again, she heard a rush of footsteps behind her.

- - -

Iwahashi and Mitsuzuka came to a sudden halt as another girl in a Senshi costume appeared in front of them. She was carrying a cat, for some bizarre reason, and she was giving them a very unfriendly look.

They stared at each other for a long, confused moment. Then there was a sudden rush of footsteps from further away. The other two 'M' Division men came running around from the far side of the building, looking as if they were fleeing for their lives. When Iwahashi saw what was chasing them, he decided that maybe that was exactly what they were doing.

It was yet another girl dressed as a Senshi. She was moving in wild leaps and bounds, dancing all around them as they turned this way and that to avoid her. She moved in a disturbingly…feline way. And as Iwahashi and Mitsuzuka watched, she lifted her hands in a curious gesture and shouted, "VENUS CHAIN THING!"

A bright golden chain sprang from her hands, glittering and arcing with power. It struck the ground scant centimetres behind the rear man's heels, throwing up a hail of shattered asphalt and dry earth. The man yelped and ran faster. The Senshi laughed maniacally.

_She's playing with them,_ Iwahashi thought in horror. _As if they're mice and she's a—_

Then he realised. The attack. The crazy girl was a real Senshi.

He turned to Mitsuzuka and saw the same realisation in the other man's eyes. Moving as one, they turned their heads and looked back at the prisoner behind them. The prisoner wearing a Sailor Mars costume.

"Oh, dear," said Mitsuzuka.

- - -

When Sailor Mars saw Uranus arrive, she let out a long breath that she had barely realised she was holding. Her allies were coming at last. She had been afraid that the man had already carried out his threat and killed them both.

Her moment of relief lasted until Venus came into sight. She gasped, and felt the man holding her stiffen as well. Venus was acting like a…a wild thing. And at school she was usually so quiet…

She tore her eyes away with a shudder. Her captor was distracted. She had to do something; the other Senshi didn't know how dangerous their enemies were!

She struggled wildly, her heart in her mouth. The arm about her shoulders tightened for a moment, then seemed to slacken. Then, unbelievably, she was free.

She stumbled away from her captor, her chest pounding. She had no time to lose. The enemy leaders were turning away from Sailor Uranus and looking at her. One of them said something. Probably an order to kill.

"BURNING MANDALA!" she shouted desperately.

Lines of fire traced themselves on the ground, startlingly bright in the darkness. They began to turn in a spiralling pattern about the men's feet, winding inward, faster and faster until they met at the centre—

There was a smoky foof.

One of the men yelped, and clutched his foot. His shoe was smouldering slightly. "Ow, dammit!" he shouted.

After a moment the other man started to laugh.

It was no good. It was never any good. She was supposed to wield the fire of Mars, but all she could produce was this pitiful forgery. She was a sham of a Senshi; a hopeless also-ran…

There was an unexpected thumping sound. Mars looked up, startled, and saw the two lying crumpled on the ground. Sailor Uranus was standing over them. She was holding their arms in what looked like quite a painful grip.

"Don't make a move," the brown-haired girl told them sternly. "You'd regret it." There was a strange, frightening look in her eyes: a cold, unwavering anger that spoke volumes. If they tried anything at all, she would make her threat good.

"S-sailor Uranus…" whispered Mars.

For a long time, there was no response. At last, Uranus seemed to relax a fraction. "Yes," she said. "Yes."

She took a deep breath, looked once more at the men she was holding, and let go of them with a contemptuous gesture. "Oh, get out of here," she ordered wearily. They stared up at her, scrambled to their feet, and ran for it.

As she watched them go, Mars became aware once more of what was going on around her. The man who had been holding her was climbing hastily back into the Opal. The two whom Venus had been chasing were just behind him. Venus herself appeared to have called off the chase, and was just running up to join Mars and Uranus. The last two men, freed by Uranus, were frantically dashing after their colleagues.

Her stomach knotted. "No," she said softly in dismay. Then, louder: "No! We can't just let them go…"

Venus cocked her head. "Why not? They're nothing. Harmless."

"They're 'M' Division," Uranus agreed. "Nothing to do with the enemy. Or a trap," she added, glancing at Venus.

"No, you don't understand!" Mars insisted. It was wrong to contradict them, she knew, but—"They're…they're not 'M' Division. They said that was a disguise…they were from the Sankaku Clans." She saw the others' eyes widen. Emboldened, she finished in a rush, "And they said they have Jupiter and Mercury prisoner on that Opal!"

But even as she spoke, she knew it was too late. The deep hum of the Opal's field effect suddenly grew in volume, and its running lights began to blink in sequence. She looked around in despair, just in time to see it lift into the air.

She had failed again, as always.

- - -

"No!" Venus groaned, watching the Opal rise. But it was too late, too late; they had gotten away, and Sailor Venus had blown it again. She had been having so much fun that she had forgotten to _think_ about what she was doing.

It was exactly like last Saturday, when Lady Blue had beaten her so effortlessly. "If she'd been thinking about what she was doing, she might actually have had a chance," her enemy had said. But today, faced with enemies who were so obviously harmless, she'd fallen instantly into the same trap.

"Having fun is more important," Bendis had told her once; and Beth had answered, "But maybe we can defend the world too?" And Bendis had agreed. _But I sure didn't remember that for long, did I?_ she asked herself bitterly.

Then she heard Sailor Uranus shout, "MUSIC OF THE SPHERES!" and realised that maybe they hadn't failed yet.

_Too much angst makes a very pretentious hero,_ she thought. A moment later she wondered what _that_ meant. After another moment, she told herself to shut up and get on with it.

If Uranus' attack made any sound, it was drowned out by the hum of the Opal. It was visible, though; a faint, almost invisible beam leaping from her palm to strike the base of the Opal squarely. At the same time, Venus felt a tingling sensation over every bit of uncovered skin on her body. Her teeth ached.

The Opal absorbed the attack quietly. Its path through the air never wavered.

"It's too big, too solid," Bendis said from nearby. Venus nodded absently. Maybe if she could wrap her Love-Me Chain around the Opal, and let it carry her after it? She'd done it before. But she'd never be able to keep the chain up for long enough; and besides, they'd be sure to notice…

"BURNING MANDALA!" shouted Mars. A ripple of fire swirled over the Opal's shell—

The drone of its field effect cut off suddenly. Its running lights went out. The Opal lurched in the sky, and began to fall.

The three Senshi watched, open-mouthed, as it crashed into a building a few hundred metres away. A shower of glass splinters and fragments of wood hailed down on them a few seconds later. Around the ruins of the aircraft, flames began to burn.

"Hmm," said Bendis. "Now that's an unexpected side-effect."

Sailor Mars stared at her hands, dumbfounded. Her lips moved silently.

"They'll all be killed!" cried out Uranus, her voice filled with horror. "We've got to try and—"

"No, wait!" Venus interrupted. "Look there."

There was movement amid the wreckage. Two figures staggered free; then three, five. But surely—

She fumbled at her communicator. "Sailor Mercury!" she shouted. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt? Did you and Jupiter make it out?"

For a moment there was no response. Then the tiny screen lit up with the face of a dark-skinned girl who said, "Um…what?"

"She's all right!" Venus told Uranus and Mars excitedly. Looking back at her communicator she gabbled on, "Thank goodness! When the Opal crashed, we were afraid you'd be killed or something! Did they have you and Jupiter locked up inside, or just tied up, or what?"

"Opal…crash." Dhiti seemed dazed. But then, Venus realised, she'd just been through a lot. "Wait a minute, did you say—"

"Are you hurt?" Uranus' voice suddenly joined the conversation. "You didn't hit your head, did you? It looked like you came down pretty hard." Venus glanced up and saw Sailor Uranus talking on her own communicator, Mars at her side.

"Er. No. I'm just a little…staggered." Dhiti closed her eyes for a moment. "Locked up, you said? No, I—I mean, _we_ managed to break the holding cell open. It was, uhh, damaged in the crash."

"Do you need help?" asked Uranus. "What about Sailor Jupiter?"

"No, no, we're fine," answered Dhiti hastily. "Um, just a little woozy. From the crash. Er—" She looked away for a moment. "Jupiter seems kind of shaken-up. Maybe I'd better get her home." She paused. "Err, how did you three get onto this, anyway?"

"That was me," Venus said proudly. "When Jupiter stopped answering her communicator on Monday, I realised you two must have walked right into the trap."

"Of course you did. I should have realised." Dhiti nodded, several times. "Umm, well, thanks a lot; you saved our bacon. Ahh…look, I'd better take Jupiter on home and make sure she's okay. The rest of you should head off too, before anyone comes to investigate the…crash. I'll see you all later, okay?"

"Right," said Venus crisply. She tapped her communicator off, looked over at the others, and said, "_Yes_! Mission accomplished!" She let out a whoop of glee.

Uranus smiled back. "You know," she said, "I was actually starting to think we were off on some wild-goose chase. Thank goodness I listened to you instead."

Even Mars was smiling weakly. "I'm glad they're safe," she said in a small voice.

Venus nodded magnanimously. "Thanks," she said. "Listen, Mercury was right. We ought to head off, there'll be fire trucks coming soon. Just remember—" She gave them all a 'V' sign. "We did it! We rescued them, and we beat the enemy too. That'll show obaasan we're not just some kind of Johnny-come-latelies!"

They shared a last victorious smile, and then separated. Venus picked up Bendis and started for home, bounding lightly across the roof-tops. If the evening had tired her at all, she gave no sign of it.

"Quick-witted girl, that Dhiti," remarked Bendis.

"What?" Venus was not really paying attention. She slowed to a halt, a pensive look on her face. "Listen, Bendis, I've been thinking. Maybe…maybe I should drop the whole 'cat' business. Or, well, tone it down a little, at least."

Bendis ran a paw through her whiskers. "If you say so," she said.

- - -

Dhiti sat in her room, staring at her communicator, for several minutes. At last she called Miyo. Her friend answered a few seconds later.

"'Lo, Hayashi," Dhiti said, grinning wickedly. "Listen, I've got some really interesting news. Guess what you and I've been doing?"

- - -

Iwahashi pushed his way out of the rubble and stood up with a groan. He staggered away from the flaming wreckage, clutching his back. When he had put a good twenty metres between himself and the Opal, he turned and looked back at the remains. He thought about how much an Opal cost, and compared that figure to his salary.

However he looked at it, this was not going to be easy to explain to his superiors.

He heard another groan, not far off, and saw Mitsuzuka approaching. The other man looked almost as bad as Iwahashi felt.

They stood together for a time, watching the building burn. The fire trucks arrived and started to get the fire under control. After a while Iwahashi suddenly remembered whose idea the whole deception had been.

He shot Mitsuzuka an accusing look and said, "Here's another fine mess you've gotten me into."

Mitsuzuka groaned back.

Once the fire was out, they went back into the warehouse and removed the burglar alarm without a trace. And they had no trouble at all.

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Dhiti went to bed still snickering to herself. The poorly-concealed triumph in Venus' voice, and the concern in Uranus', had been so utterly delicious. She couldn't decide whether it would be funnier to tell them the truth, or let them go on thinking they'd scored a great victory.

Hayashi wanted to forget all about the incident. Itsuko wanted to bang some heads together. Artemis, when they asked him, had become virtually incoherent. Dhiti wished she'd been able to see that. She fell asleep with a blissful smile on her face.

Her alarm clock went off at one o'clock in the morning, and she sat bolt-upright, staring around wildly in the pitch blackness. Then she remembered what she'd been planning.

She dressed quickly in dark clothing, taking care to be as quiet as possible. There was a small bundle of tools on her desk; she slipped it into a pocket. When she opened her bedroom door, the house was silent. All clear. She made her way cautiously outside.

It was a warm July night. The streets were nearly empty at this hour; in the pale blue glow of the street-lights, they looked eerily unfamiliar. She jogged along at an easy pace, ducking out of sight when cars approached.

At last she reached the house she was heading for, and stood looking at it uneasily for some time. The whole plan seemed a lot less simple, and definitely a lot less sensible, now that she was actually here and ready to act.

On the other hand, she wasn't one to back out on a plan just because she had last-minute jitters. She made up her mind, and slipped through the gate and around into the back yard. The rear of the house was a mass of solid shadow. She stepped up to it carefully and pressed her ear to the wall.

Silence.

She took a deep breath and hunkered down in the shadow, still listening. It was late, or rather early; but she wanted to be sure that everyone was asleep before she went to the next stage.

For at least the twentieth time, she told herself that this was a stupid idea. It was almost certain to fail, and very possibly get her into serious trouble. She might well be in serious trouble even if she succeeded. Her father, in particular, would be furious if he discovered she'd been out this late without permission—and on a school night.

Still, it had seemed like such a _good_ idea, when it had occurred to her at school the previous day. And if she did succeed, she would have scored a really marvellous coup that she'd be able to boast about for months to come.

_I'll show that Sailor Venus who's the wild one around here,_ she thought irrelevantly.

Besides, it was to help Hayashi. That was an important consideration. She preferred not to admit it, not even to herself, but Hayashi was, well, someone she liked to help. A friend. The closest friend Dhiti had ever had, truth to tell; even Kin was not as close, and Kin could match wits with Dhiti a lot better than Hayashi ever could.

She wasn't sure if it was because she and Hayashi were both Senshi or not. Maybe that was part of it, though. Dhiti tended to leave friends behind the same way she abandoned hobbies. She was pretty sure that ordinarily, she'd have been getting bored with Kin and Hayashi's company by now. But since she'd picked up her henshin wand—since she'd made the commitment—things had seemed different.

She remembered that time, a couple of weeks before, in the dressmaker's shop. She'd been in trouble, and she'd called for help—and Hayashi had come. That had been a strange feeling.

She had always been alone, before. Active, gregarious, the centre of attention, sure—but alone, never attaching herself to anyone for long because she'd never met anyone who held her interest for long. She had been as slippery as ice. Then, suddenly, she had been offered an incredible chance: the opportunity to fly further, higher than she had ever dreamed. How could she have said no?

But there was a price, and in an unexpected coin. By accepting, she had bound herself, all unrealising, to Hayashi and Iku and the others. She had made herself part of a team, and the really strange thing was that it didn't bother her in the slightest.

She sighed, and shook her head impatiently. This was going nowhere; she was getting maudlin. She had to concentrate on what she was really here for.

She checked her watch again. One fifty-five. That meant it was probably one fifty; the communicator-watches seemed to gain about five minutes a week. She'd used her computer once to try and work out why, but she hadn't quite believed the answer. Something about the day being shorter, when the communicators were made? She vaguely remembered that the Earth's rotation was supposed to be gradually slowing; but for the communicators to gain that much, they would have to have been made so long ago that—

No. That was silly.

Another glance at the watch. Two o'clock, near enough. That was good enough, she decided. Time to get to work.

She stood up gingerly, rubbing her legs, and slipped out of her pool of shadow. She'd thought the night was warm, before; but after sitting here for half an hour, she felt damp and frozen. She wished she'd brought a jacket, but all her jackets were brightly-coloured.

The bulk of the house, looming above her, blocked almost all light from the street lamps. With a smirk, she reached up and activated her visor. A week before, she'd finally worked out how to make it appear when she wasn't in her Sailor Mercury form. Now, she watched the darkness become as bright as day, and smiled again as she made her way silently to the rear door.

It was locked, of course. Time for her second secret weapon.

She pulled out the Mercury computer and tapped the keyboard. Her visor flickered, then lit up with a scan of the lock. Helpful annotations showed the positions of the pins and how far she'd have to move each one. Really, she could almost get to like this computer.

Earlier, after school, she'd spent a few hours practising with the locks at home. It was fiddly work and she'd taken a while to get the hang of it; but her hands were nimble, and with the computer showing her exactly what to do, it was actually quite easy. It occurred to her that, if this Senshi business didn't pan out, she could always try another, more lucrative occupation.

Her hands kept slipping; she was shivering from the cold. Each time, she had to start over, probing patiently with a long bent needle. It took her nearly twenty minutes before she felt the last pin lift, and the screwdriver she'd pushed into the lock turned smoothly.

She let out a long, silent breath, opened the door, and stepped inside. Into the former home of Hayashi Miyo.

The reality of what she was doing began to sink in as she closed the door again. Burglary; there was no other word for it. She had come here to rob the house, and that was that.

On the other hand, the things she'd come to take didn't really belong here any more, did they? _I don't exactly have a lot to my name any more,_ Hayashi had said that afternoon. When her family had thrown her out, she had been left with almost nothing.

Dhiti planned to change that.

Still, creeping around someone else's house in the middle of the night was…kind of unnerving. She found herself wishing she'd thought twice about this particular bright idea.

_Oh, well, I'm here now,_ she thought to herself at last, quashing the doubts fiercely. She was Sharma Dhiti, and nothing got her down. Nothing. Definitely.

Now, where in the house was she? She'd never come in through the back door before; she was lost…

Finally she remembered to switch her visor back to night-vision mode, and recognised the rear hallway. Let's see; that meant that Hayashi's old room ought to be right through that door over there…

She opened it silently, stepped through, and stopped, cursing silently. She really _was_ turned around. This was the kitchen, not Hayashi's room. She turned around to go back into the hall—

—And bumped into someone.

She heard a startled gasp, and could not restrain her own squeak of surprise. A hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder before she could break away.

A voice, shrill with fear, quavered, "Who's that? Who's there?"

Dhiti twisted, trying to break free. She could not make out her captor's face. Another hand, waving blindly, clipped her visor and knocked it off her face, leaving her sightless in the dark. She lashed out with an elbow and felt the impact; she heard a startled grunt. The hand came loose from her shoulder.

She dropped to the floor, fumbling around for her visor. Her head struck something hard and cold. She said, clearly, "Ow."

Her hand fell on her visor. She snatched it up, just as her attacker turned the lights on. She winced away from the sudden light and banged her head again. The fridge, she realised hazily. How had this all gone so wrong so fast?

Finally, she looked up.

A boy, perhaps a year younger than her, stood looking down at her, his face a picture of surprise. Hayashi's little brother, Fujimaro. "Wh—Dhiti-san?" he said incredulously. "Is that you? What…what are you doing here?"

Dhiti stood up slowly, rubbing her head with one hand. With the other hand, she made the visor disappear, hoping he hadn't noticed it. "Um," she said feebly. "Hi, Fujimaro-kun."

A silence fell. For once, Dhiti could not think of anything to say. This was one of Hayashi's family; one of the ones who'd thrown her out. She ought to feel angry at him, or contemptuous, or something, surely? Instead, seeing him standing there blinking at her in his pyjamas, she realised that he simply looked rather pathetic. She looked up at his face again, started guiltily when she saw him staring back at her, and studied her feet intently. "Um," she said again.

They both heard the creaking floorboards from the corridor. Somebody was coming. Dhiti stiffened, automatically looking around for somewhere to hide. To her surprise, Fujimaro pointed to the open door. She blinked, then leaped over and flattened herself behind it.

The footsteps halted on the other side of the door. Dhiti held her breath.

"Fujimaro?" she heard. "What on earth are you doing? Do you know what time it is?"

"Sorry, otousan," Fujimaro answered. "I was getting a glass of water, and I banged into the door. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you—"

It was Hayashi's father, Dhiti realised. Her _father_. The man who'd disowned her. The man who'd learned that his daughter was a Senshi, and had responded by throwing her out of the house.

A peculiar black mist seemed to descend before her eyes. She clenched her teeth. She wanted to throw the door back into his face. She wanted to become Sailor Mercury and…and do something. Something violent. To the man who'd hurt her friend so badly.

"I was already awake," she heard Hayashi Hitomaru say. "I couldn't sleep." He sighed. "Never mind that. Keep it down, will you?" There was a muffled sound: a father patting his son on the shoulder. "Good night, Fuji-chan."

Fujimaro mumbled something that Dhiti couldn't make out. She heard Hitomaru pad off down the corridor again. For a wild moment she wanted to follow and scream at him: _You can't sleep? You do that to my Hayashi, and you can't sleep?_

Then Fujimaro pulled the door away from her. She stared at him, still furious, and her expression made him flinch.

"Why did you come here?" he whispered. "To burn the house down?"

She thought about it. "Maybe," she said, only half-sure that she was joking.

"Go ahead," he said bitterly, no longer bothering to keep his voice low. "Maybe you'd be doing us a favour."

Dhiti hesitated, not knowing quite how to take that. "What?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, then looked away. "Never mind," he said; and at the sight of the weary resignation on his face, her anger suddenly faded. "Just…never mind. It doesn't matter. What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked. "How did you get in?"

She started to answer, then stepped past him suddenly and closed the door into the corridor. If they were going to talk, there was no sense in waking anyone else. Then she started wondering what to tell him. Best to keep it straightforward, perhaps.

"I came to steal some of Hayashi's old stuff, and take it to her," she said.

She watched his face as she spoke. His expression was quite satisfying.

When he had finished spluttering, she said, "So, all you have to do is shout, and I'll probably end up in jail. What are you going to do?"

"Can I help?" he asked.

Dhiti blinked. "Er," she said.

"How were you going to get it all out of her room, anyway?" he asked. "Just hope that Miliko doesn't wake up?"

She felt the blood rush to her face. "Er," she said again. Somehow she'd managed to forget that Hayashi had shared a room with her little sister. Maybe she should forget that career as a burglar after all.

He smirked at her, and Dhiti suddenly remembered why she was glad she didn't have a brother. "It doesn't matter, anyway," he said. "My father moved all of her things out, days ago. It's all in cartons in the basement." The smirk suddenly vanished, so quickly that she realised that it had never been genuine in the first place. Without it, she could see the baffled pain and anger in his face. "Miliko cried for hours," he said quietly. Almost inaudibly, he added, "So did I…later."

Dhiti hesitated, then dared to ask, "Why? Why did he do it? Why did he just—throw her out?"

Fujimaro closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't know," he said softly. "He…he won't talk about it. He won't even say her name. But he can't sleep at night. He never smiles any more. And my mother…she's worse. She's like a ghost; she drifts around the house all day and…and…And Ichiyo, he tries to pretend that he doesn't care, but he does, it's breaking him up, and Miliko thinks it's all her fault, because she was the one who told everyone that—"

He stopped, biting his lip, a sudden wariness in his face. After a second Dhiti realised what he'd been about to say: that Hayashi was Sailor Jupiter.

"And what about you?" she asked coolly.

He made a face. "I just want her back!" he burst out. "I just want my sister back again."

He drew a long, shuddering breath. "I saw her a few days ago," he said quietly. "She said…she said it was _my_ fault. Because I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything to try and stop it. And maybe she was right." He looked up at Dhiti, his eyes glimmering. "But I don't care," he said. "I just want her to come home again. But she can't do that any more…"

Dhiti shook her head, wishing she were somewhere else. Anywhere but here, in the middle of a family crisis she had no business with. At last she said, "So, let's go see what's in the basement. I can take a load tonight, at least."

He closed his eyes. "Someone already did take some of her stuff, you know. A woman. I don't know who she was. She came here, the night when…you know. She and otousan ended up shouting at each other, but she did take a lot of clothes away with her." He looked up suddenly. "Who was she?" he asked. "You must know that much. Can you tell me where Miyo's staying, at least? At first I thought maybe she was sleeping at your house, but…"

She cleared her throat. "My house?" she said dryly. "I definitely don't think _my_ father would appreciate that. He and Hayashi don't…um." She bit her lip. "I don't think I should tell you where she is, though. Not without talking to her first."

_Not because of you, though,_ she added silently. _Because of me, and Itsuko, and all the others. You already know about Hayashi, but that would be risking too much…_

"No," he said sadly. "I guess she's not my sister any more, but she's still your friend, right?"

"Maybe," she said. "I'll…I'll talk to her."

"Just…just tell her I'm sorry. And I want to be her brother again. Please."

She nodded, wishing once again that she had never come here. "The basement?" she prompted him hopefully.

Fujimaro sighed. "Yes. All right. Come on then…" He paused, and shot her a quick look. "Are you one of them too? Like her?" he asked.

Dhiti froze. He _had_ seen her visor, then. Damn.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said woodenly.

He nodded, as if satisfied. "Come on, then," he said, as if nothing had happened. Puzzled but relieved, she followed him down to the basement.

- - -

Two and a half hours later, Dhiti was in the Olympus building, kneeling beside the door to Itsuko's suite. This night was turning out to be hell. She was starting to wonder if she'd ever get any sleep again.

There was a large bag on the landing behind her. It was filled almost to bursting with clothes, books and a really fascinating collection of knick-knacks which she had been bursting to paw through—if only Fujimaro hadn't been watching when she'd packed them. It was heavy as hell, too. Carrying it to the Olympus had been murder. By the time she'd remembered that it would have been easier if she'd changed to Sailor Mercury, it had been pretty much too late.

Now, she was wearing her visor again, and tapping away at her computer's keyboard. This door had an electronic lock; her screwdriver and bent needle would not be any use. Instead, she had to persuade her computer to 'talk' to Itsuko's security system. It was depressingly difficult, though she wasn't quite sure whether this was because the security computer was too stupid or too intelligent to cooperate.

She could always just knock, she supposed. Itsuko and Hayashi would understand, once she showed them why she was here. But, damn it, she wanted to do this right. Simply showing up at the door, handing the bag to Hayashi, saying "Hi, this is yours" and then leaving…just didn't seem right. Not Dhiti's style.

How much more satisfying, instead, if Hayashi should simply wake up in the morning, mysteriously surrounded by her own things. The surprise, and then the look of stunned gratitude on her face. "What angel did this for me?" she'd say…

Dhiti blinked, misty-eyed. Okay, the angel part was a bit much. Still, the scene at Hayashi's house had been something of a disaster; at least she wanted to get this end right.

Almost as if in answer to her thought, her computer bleeped and flashed a combination onto her visor. She stared at it woozily for a moment—it really had been a long night—and then punched the numbers into the keypad. The door clicked.

_Well, what do you know?_ she thought. _Maybe I could be a burglar._ She would have to suggest it to her father sometime; see what he thought of the career choice. Perhaps to the school vocation guidance counsellor, too, if only to see the man's expression.

Still grinning at the idea, she put her computer away and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. Then she sighed, opened the door again, and went back to collect her bag from the landing. She'd be forgetting her own head next.

Okay, let's see. Miyo's room was just down the hall, and…through _that_ door. She stepped through, and found herself in the kitchen.

She blinked. This was becoming suspiciously familiar.

A little unnerved, she shouldered her bag and turned to leave. As she did so, she bumped into somebody. "Oh, no, not _again_," she blurted out loud.

"Oh, no, not _again_," said the other person at the same moment.

They stared at each other.

"Who are you?" Dhiti asked. She didn't recognise the voice. "Er, this is the Pappadopoulos suite, isn't it?"

"Aizawa Ochiyo," said the other. "Um, who are _you_?"

Belatedly, Dhiti remembered that she was still wearing her visor. Well, it was too late to remove it now.

She struck a pose. "They call me…the Masked Avenger!" she announced. Inwardly, she patted herself on the back. _That was pretty good,_ she thought, pleased. _I wonder what I'll say next?_

"Are you here to burgle Pappadopoulos-san again?" asked the girl nervously.

_Again?_ Dhiti paused, startled. Fortunately, her mouth started working before her brain had quite caught up. "Um. No. Actually, I'm very sorry about burgling you before, so this time I've decided to leave things instead of taking them. All right? Here."

She handed the bag to Ochiyo, who took it, startled. Dhiti made the most of the moment, and ran for it.

- - -

The next day was pure hell; Dhiti could hardly stay awake during school. The teachers all noticed and had a great deal of fun at her expense. Also, Hayashi cornered her at lunch-time and tried to throttle her, and then hugged her soundly.

So it had all been worth it after all.

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Suzue took off her apron and sat down with a sigh. Home Economics was over at last. There were days when she enjoyed the class, but today was definitely not one of them.

She stared at the articles on the plate before her. They were supposed to be takoyaki. After a minute, she picked one up and took an experimental bite. It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked.

A hand stretched over her shoulder and took another ball. She looked around to see her partner, Shoda Keiko, popping it into her mouth. The other girl chewed for a few moments, her face expressionless. Suzue waited for her verdict in silence.

Keiko swallowed, several times, and finally nodded slowly. "Y'know, Suzue-chan, I hate to say this, but you're a really…indifferent cook."

Suzue nodded, still silent. She already knew that.

"Could be a lot worse, though. You saw what a mess Aizawa made?"

She smiled faintly. "That was an accident, though. She tripped."

"Yeah, and spilled that pot all over Yamaguchi—Oh, never mind. At least I got you to smile." Keiko brushed her hair back from her eyes, looked down at the plate again, and said, "Come on, toss that stuff in the bin and let's get out of here, okay?" She took another ball, as if in defiance of her own instructions, and stuffed it into her mouth.

Suzue picked up the plate and headed for the bin obediently, ignoring the fusillade of coughing that broke out behind her. As she returned, Keiko was hurriedly setting down an empty tumbler.

The two headed out of the building. When they paused to put their shoes on, Keiko said, "Actually, you've been pretty quiet all day, Suzue-chan. All week, really. Something bothering you?"

Suzue hesitated, biting her lip.

"Boyfriend trouble?" Keiko prompted her.

"No!" she blurted out, then blushed. "Minoru-kun and I are…getting along fine, thank you."

"Well, good. Y'know, I used to worry about you, until—never mind. So what _is_ the problem, then?"

Suzue remained silent for a minute longer. At last she said, "It's not a problem, exactly. I've had something on my mind, that's all."

Keiko raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What?"

"That…would mean discussing a topic we agreed that I'd never mention to you again."

"Oh," Keiko said in quite a different tone of voice. "Um. Never mind, then."

She nodded, and the two of them walked outside in complete silence. Suzue had tried to talk to her friend about her beliefs, once, a few years before. Their friendship had been strained over the matter for a long time afterward.

Nevertheless, she could see a train of thought start in Keiko's mind. Her friend started to speak several times as they walked, each time catching herself before the first word escaped. Her face was a picture of frustration. It was unkind, Suzue knew, but she enjoyed the irony of the moment anyway.

"What is it?" she asked when she thought Keiko had suffered enough.

Keiko flushed. Then, defiantly, she said, "Oh…it can't hurt to talk about it, can it? Just this once," she added, a trifle guiltily.

"Of course not," Suzue murmured ironically, too low for Keiko to hear.

"Well, I couldn't help wondering…you know, with these new Senshi showing up, what you people thought about it," Keiko stumbled out. "I mean, I'd have thought the Loon—the Church of Serenity would be all excited and, you know, shouting about it to the newsies, and so on."

_'You people',_ Suzue thought to herself. _'Loonies.'_

"So…isn't this supposed to be like the end of the world, or the Rapture, or something?" There was, remarkably, no mockery on Keiko's face. "I was just, you know, wondering."

Suzue sighed, shaking her head. "Nobody's really said anything. I think they're still trying to make their minds up, actually." She thought for a moment. "Everyone was expecting the Blessed Lady—"

"Suzue-chan!"

She flushed. "—Sorry. They were expecting S—Sailor Moon to appear first, or maybe right after Sailor Venus. But there's no sign of her yet. The College of Intercessors are trying to decide what it means. Last week, Elder Kurita said that we—"

Seeing Keiko's expression, she broke off. "Umm. Maybe you don't want to hear that part."

Keiko shook her head, a wry grin in her lips. "Sounds like you guys are just the same as everyone else, really," she said. "Just waiting to see what happens." A moment later she added, "Y'know, Suzue-chan, you take all this stuff way too seriously."

"Maybe." Inwardly, Suzue thought, _If you didn't want to hear about it, why did you ask?_ She didn't say it aloud, of course.

They walked on. Keiko changed the subject, talking at length about one of the boys in their class who she was sure liked her. She tried, none too subtly, to get Suzue to tell her how far she'd gone with Minoru. Suzue took it in good part, deflecting the more personal queries and even prodding Keiko back a little. The awkwardness was gone once more, to her relief.

All the same, something about Keiko's words bothered her. _You take all this stuff way too seriously…You're just the same as everyone else. Waiting to see what happens._

_But I'm not the same as everyone else, am I?_ she asked herself angrily. _I'm a Senshi—one of the Blessed Lady's appointed._

With a sudden shock, she thought, _Maybe I shouldn't be waiting, then._

She became aware that Keiko was speaking to her. "—hear a word I'm saying," her friend complained. "Are you all right, Suzue-chan?"

She blinked; then, slowly, she smiled. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine," she said. "You've been a big help, Keiko-chan. Thank you."

"I have?" Keiko gave her a baffled look. "Oh. Good. Don't mention it. Umm, are you going to tell me what I did?"

Suzue thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I think I'd better not," she said. "See you, Keiko-chan!" Suddenly light-hearted, she ran out the school gate, having to resist an impulse to skip like a child.

Keiko stood, looking after her. "Don't mention it," the girl repeated. With a shrug, she added, "Whatever it was."

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On Thursday night, another vitrimorph attacked. The download unit at a local music store suddenly came to life, a few minutes before closing time. It rampaged around the store for a while, destroying equipment and injuring several people, before breaking out through the front window and lurching into the street, firing razor-sharp silvery metal discs at the passers-by.

The Sailor Senshi arrived before anybody was killed, and eliminated the menace in a pitched battle that ended when the unit exploded in a crystalline burst. The Senshi departed the scene quickly.

There were five of them now, the newsies reported gleefully that evening. Venus, Jupiter and Mercury had been joined by Uranus (who was rumoured to have appeared once before, two weeks previously in a battle at a theatre) and a newcomer, Mars. There was still no sign of Sailor Moon.

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- - - - - - -

Beth pushed the book aside with a sigh. It was Friday afternoon; she should have been out enjoying herself. Spending time with her friends. Maybe catching a movie, or window-shopping, or…or something. Instead she was cooped up in her room with nothing to do but read a lot of books that, to be honest, were extremely boring.

She could be out with Eitoku, she thought dreamily. If only he'd hurry and get up the nerve to ask her! Or bumming around with Nanako was fun; but Nana-chan had said she couldn't make it. That only left Iku; and the thought of hanging out with Iku was, well, ridiculous. And Beth didn't _have_ any other friends to speak of.

There were the other Senshi, she thought half-heartedly. But while they seemed nice enough, she really hardly knew them; they weren't exactly what she could call _friends_ yet. She wasn't totally sure she remembered all their names, to be honest.

She reached for her communicator to call them anyway; but her nerve failed her at the last moment. She reached for her book again, feeling wretched.

This one was a textbook about modern building design. Beth knew next to nothing about architecture, and she was finding it heavy going. She managed to wade through another three pages—taking a fresh sheaf of notes on points to look up the next time she was at the library—before giving up, her mind a weary maze of half-digested facts about foundation depths, air flows, sewage and electrical systems, and vital feng shui considerations.

_I'm never going to need to know this stuff,_ she thought grouchily. _And who cares, anyway?_ She'd gotten the book out thinking that it might come in handy if she had to fight in any more office buildings in the future; but, as with many of her other recent reading experiments, she had seriously underestimated the technical detail involved.

She looked at the next book in her pile, hoping that it would be easier going. It was the one that Bendis had been pressing her to read, she realised: "Secret Warriors: The Women Who Built Crystal Tokyo."

History. Great. Like she didn't know this stuff already. After all, she'd seen it all on the viddy, hadn't she?

She blinked suddenly, and checked her watch. The program had started five minutes ago. Getting up from her desk, she hurried through to the living room. She found Bendis already there, sitting in front of the viddy, transfixed.

Beth rolled her eyes. _Not again._ The cat had finally gotten the hang of working the controls with her paws, and was fast becoming a video junkie. It was quite a funny sight, actually.

"Um," she said. "I wanted to watch…um."

The cat flicked her tail at Beth in irritation, not taking her eyes from the screen. Queen Serenity was just climbing into an improbably-shaped mecha, as Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Asteroid cheered her on.

"…Um." Beth sat down beside Bendis. Within moments, she was as deeply immersed in the program as the cat.

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Somewhere in Third Tokyo…

The leaders of the Sankaku Clans gathered. More than sixty men and women came together, by ones and twos, in an unremarkable hall in an unremarkable building. A sign in the foyer showed that the facility had been reserved for an advertising convention.

Those who attended the meeting were not in the very highest ranks of the Sankaku. They were one or two levels from the top, though not all of them knew this. Nevertheless, security was very tight, if unobtrusive. The identity of every person who arrived was checked, in multiple ways, before he or she was allowed to enter. By the time the meeting began, the security team on duty were confident that there were no more than two 'S' Division informers present.

Okuda Jiro was one of the security team. He kept a close eye on the double agents as the meeting progressed; and when it was over he would be the one responsible for keeping track of their movements and who they spoke to. If anything too important was said at the meeting, he would also be responsible for making sure that they did not have a chance to repeat it.

For now, he sat with his colleagues in the little A/V room that overlooked the main hall. They had fitted the room out as a monitoring station. The lights were dimmed, and the rows of monitors—showing views of the hall, the surrounding corridors and the streets outside the building—lit up their faces with a flickering glow. Other monitors tracked radio activity, vibration patterns and ultra- and infra-sonic audio frequencies. The Clans had learned through experience to be very, very cautious.

Jiro still managed to keep half an ear on the actual proceedings of the meeting.

"—Have to be concerned at what they're up to," one of the delegates was saying. "'S' Division have been jumpy for weeks. _Somebody_ must have done something to set them off."

"Surveillance levels have gone through the roof in the last three weeks, in particular," someone else complained. "And then there was that raid on Hoseki Property—"

"Not just Hoseki," another woman interrupted. "They raided Hashi Finance and Kantera Investment Services, too."

"Yes, but they put a lot more effort into Hoseki. It's obvious which one they were really interested in…"

"That's what they want you to think," a fourth voice said. A ripple of laughter ran through the room.

"Seriously," said the first voice. "Have any of us been doing anything to set this off?"

There was a long pause. At last, a new woman's voice said, "Niji Clan have not been taking any unusual actions in the last two months."

"Nor have Shinpo clan," said a man. His voice was reluctant, as if he had not wanted to speak.

There was another long silence. Then a young man with a sharp, crisp voice said, "Paradise Clan have been…monitoring recent events closely. But we have begun no new actions."

"So what _has_ got the Serries in a panic, then?" asked the second voice. "This cat-hunt of theirs, I suppose?"

There was more laughter. A new voice said, "I thought we had agreed that the cat search was connected with the reappearance of the Senshi."

"_Probably_ connected," someone else corrected.

"Very well, then. We are carrying out our own cat-search, of course, though I doubt that it is making any more progress than 'S' Division's own. But I fail to see how a search for a missing cat could connect to the raid on the Hoseki Property Group…"

Still listening, Jiro hid a grimace. He had a very good idea of how the cat-search was connected to Hoseki. A little over three weeks before, he had had an unexpected call from an old friend.

He had first met Pappadopoulos Itsuko twenty-five years before—though she had been using a different name then. She'd been a dabbler in the underworld, a small-time fence and smuggler with a knack for being in the right place at the right time. He'd been fairly new on the wrong side of the tracks himself, back then, and Itsuko had done him a number of important favours. In return, he had been able to put her in contact with someone when she'd needed to adopt a new identity, papers and all.

She had apparently gone straight after that, and he was fairly sure that she didn't know that he was now Sankaku; but still, he had been happy to help her out when she'd called. The nature of her request, though, had been unexpected.

She had wanted her business de-bugged; but who would want to bug a gymnasium in the first place? Jiro had been curious. Was his little Itsuko-chan still involved in something dirty after all?

His men had installed a system for her, to feed a false signal to the bugs. It had been very easy to add a little something at the same time: an extra system that broadcast the true signal…to Jiro. He had listened to the results with great interest.

He had gotten far more than he had bargained for. Itsuko-chan was involved in something, all right, but it wasn't anything dirty. His old friend Itsuko was a good deal older than he had thought. It was no wonder that she needed a new identity now and then; and no wonder that she didn't seem to have aged, in all the years he'd known her.

Jiro was left with an awkward decision to make. He knew that Itsuko was really Hino Rei of Crystal Tokyo; and that her young ward was the reborn Sailor Jupiter. After the long meeting a week ago, he knew who all the other Senshi were, too.

He had made sure that he was the only one to hear what Itsuko and her friends were saying. But what should he do with the information?

The most obvious answer was to do nothing. Personally, Jiro was all for the new Senshi—though he knew that, ultimately, they were bound to be against people like him. Still, he remembered his history lessons; he knew what the Senshi had done for humanity, and he was not inclined to oppose the heirs of Crystal Tokyo.

(Well, not unless they ended up working with the Serenity Council. But the Serries had announced just recently that the Senshi had turned down their offer to meet. All three Sankaku Clans had breathed a collective sigh of relief.)

Nevertheless…he suspected that he and Itsuko were the connection between Hoseki and the cat-search, though the details were a little hard to fathom. 'S' Division had started getting nervous right after he'd visited Itsuko; and of course he was also one of Hoseki's security consultants. It was even possible that 'S' Division had been the ones to bug the Olympus in the first place, though he had no idea why.

So what was he to do? He ought to tell his Sankaku superiors what he suspected. But that would probably mean giving Itsuko's secret away. If he tried leaving that part out of his story, someone would get suspicious. In the Clans, that was inevitable.

Thus far, he had kept silent. But if the pressure from 'S' Division got too much greater, he might have to talk—purely to save his own neck. It was not a decision that he relished.

Shaking his head slowly, he turned his attention back to the monitors. It sounded as though somebody was making some firm decisions at last.

"—Have to get some answers," a man was saying. "Increasing our penetration of 'S' Division headquarters should give us new answers. Maybe"—he gave a quick grin—"even tell us what the cat-hunt is all about."

"I'll have a couple of our moles inside 'S' activated," a woman responded. "We should get some useful feedback within a week."

"Good. Also…" The man referred to a sheaf of notes on the table in front of him. "Shinpo Clan report that their cyber division is ready to try another crack of the Opal communication net. If we can finally break that, we'll have a direct line into 'S' Division's operations."

A loud murmur of agreement and anticipation filled the hall. Jiro was no longer paying attention, though. As the man had spoken, a message light on Jiro's comm remote had started to blink.

'S' Division's two double agents had just heard too much. Jiro was going to have a little extra work to do, once the meeting was over.

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"You've been pretty distracted lately," said Eitoku. "Is something wrong?"

Nanako gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Distracted?" she said. "What do you mean, 'Toku-chan?"

It was Saturday afternoon, and school had just let out for the weekend. Most other students had made a bee-line for the gates, but the two of them had met out at the back of the main building, enjoying a rare chance for a little privacy. They would be meeting again that evening, true, but that was an eternity away.

Eitoku snorted. "As if you don't know already. All that Senshi-watch stuff, for a start. And sneaking around with that kid, Kawatake. And spying on Beth-san." He rolled his eyes at the idea. "And you've been going round other schools looking for some Claver girl named 'Dhiti.'

"What!" She stiffened, looking at him in shock. "How did you hear about that?"

"Ah-ha! It is true, then."

"Huh? You mean you—"

"So what's it all about? Paying off a bet? Or have you decided to set up shop as an information broker, or something?"

"Don't be silly." Working as a broker would be far too much work. Nanako only investigated the things she was personally interested in. Mind you, that did cover a lot. "Seriously, where did you hear about Dhiti? That was supposed to be—"

"Never mind that," Eitoku said impatiently. "I suppose she owes you money, or something. But…spying on Beth-san? _Why_, for heaven's sake? Hasn't there been enough spying around here already?"

He meant Beth and Hideo, she knew. Nanako thought about saying that if he went ahead and joined 'D' Division, he'd be seeing a lot more spying yet; but she suppressed the impulse. It was petty, and a little too sharp to fit the not-too-bright persona she preferred to project. Eitoku knew about her façade—they'd been dating for months now—but she did try not to break character, even in front of him. He'd admitted that he thought it was cute.

Besides, she'd already seen that he was a little touchy about the whole 'D' Division thing.

"I mean, how would you feel if Beth-san or I started spying on _you_?" he went on.

She blinked. "Pretty flattered," she said. "Why?"

"Gahh!" He gave her a disgusted look.

"Look," she said reasonably, "what's the problem, anyway? If you must know, Kawatake was the one spying on Beth-chan. I think it's kind of cute, myself." She chose her words carefully. Eitoku knew her well enough that he might be able to tell if she lied. "I don't _need_ to spy on her. She's my friend, remember? I see her every day."

He harrumphed. "All right, all right. What you see in her—no, never mind. But," he asked plaintively, "why the Senshi, Nana-chan? I never figured you for an otaku."

Nanako decided to be honest. "How can I not be interested?" she asked him. "The Senshi are back, and if two thousand years ago is anything to judge by, they're going to affect…well, everything! You want to be a politician—why aren't _you_ interested? They're going to change the world under your feet!"

"If they're allowed to," he said.

She stared at him for a long time. "What?"

"What if people don't _want_ the world to be changed?"

Sick shock, in her gut. "What…what are you talking about?" she whispered. "You don't mean—"

"I mean that I like the world the way it is now." Eitoku spread his arms wide. "What's so wrong with it? Why does it need changing?" He shook his head. "I don't see why we need a mystic moon queen to poke her nose in. Shouldn't we be allowed to choose our own way?"

"Crystal Tokyo was a paradise on Earth!" Nanako flared back. "And you just want to turn your back on it? What, are you crazy? 'What's wrong with the world'—what's _right_ about it? We had perfection once, and we can have it again!"

"Oh, stop," he said disgustedly. "You're starting to sound like one of the Loonies."

She froze, eyes wide. Then she slapped his face. "That," she hissed, "is a _horrible_ thing to say."

They stood, almost nose-to-nose, for a moment that seemed to last forever. She could see the mark on his cheek, just beginning to redden. His eyes were wide open, the whites showing all around. His expression was shocked, just beginning to darken with anger. She herself was wire-taut, poised in the precipice between rage and fear. In another moment, one of them would say something unforgivable.

Then Nanako started to giggle.

The tension broke in an instant. She heard Eitoku's sigh of relief, and for some reason it made her laugh even harder. "One of the Loonies," she managed to say. "H-horrible." And then the absurdity of the idea, combined with the strain of a moment ago, was too much. She dissolved in mirth again, and all the stress and anger came washing out in a great cleansing tide. She looked up at him, saw him staring back with a look of utter incomprehension, and had to turn away because she was laughing so hard it hurt.

At last she managed to sober once more. "You _are_ horrible sometimes," she told him, not looking around. "You know that?"

"I know," he answered amiably. "It's one of my better points." She chuckled, and heard him chuckle in reply. Then he gave a faint cough. "Um," he said. "So, are we still on for tonight?"

"What!" She whirled on him, her eyes flashing. "What are you talking about? If you think you're getting out of a date that easily—"

Too late, she saw the glint in his eye, and the faint smile on his lips, and realised that she had been had. "You—you…" she spluttered. His grin widened.

She could either hit him again or laugh again, she realised. After careful consideration, she did both.

Once the mutual giggling was over and they had both calmed down a little, she sighed and wiped her eyes and said, "You idiot!" He nodded in self-satisfied acknowledgement, and she added, smirking, "You'd just better have something special in mind for tonight to make up for that, 'Toku-chan."

He shrugged. "I might have something planned," he admitted.

That was the nice thing about Eitoku. He wasn't, admittedly, a lot to look at, and he didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Of course, Nanako wasn't exactly a hearts-and-flowers kind of girl either. But he did know her, maybe better than anyone; he knew what she liked, and how to get her to enjoy herself—for real, not just as a pose. She could relax with him, and that meant a lot.

"Well, then," she said happily. Who cared about Loonies? "Now I just need an excuse."

He raised his eyebrows, left behind as usual. Poor dear. "For what?" he asked.

"For Beth-chan," she explained patiently. "She was hinting that she wanted to do something tonight. Don't worry about it. Now, what would she believe…?"

As she fell to plotting, Eitoku gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Do you ever feel guilty?" he asked quietly.

She paused, distracted. "About what?"

"About Beth-san," he said. "About not telling her about…you and me. She's supposed to be your friend, Nana-chan."

Suddenly Nanako could not look him in the eye. Her plans collapsed in ashes around her ears. "Um," she said.

"I mean, you've been leading her on for—what, weeks? More than a month. I can't say I exactly like her, but…she deserves a little better than that, surely."

"I know." Nanako studied her shoes. "It…it wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Oh?"

"Well, you saw how she was!" she protested. "Following you around, hiding in the bushes and spying on you…moaning and sighing over you in private like…like something out of a bad romance novel! I thought if I pulled her in and made her actually spend some time with us, up close, she'd figure out what's what in the end."

"Moaning and sighing?" he asked, intrigued.

"Never mind that! Anyway, you saw what happened. She's off in a world of her own, she just ignores anything that doesn't match the way she thinks things are."

"All the more reason to tell her," he said unsympathetically.

"Yes, but _how_? You said it yourself: I've been leading her on for weeks. _We've_ been leading her on. I can't just go up to her and tell her, oh, by the way, I've been dating your dream boy for months now. It'd be…I don't know. A betrayal." She looked up at him, troubled. "It's gone too far, and I don't know how to stop it now…"

"You don't want to hurt her."

"No. I like her. She's…my best friend, maybe." A sudden smile quirked her lips. "Naïveté and self-delusion on that scale can be oddly appealing."

He grinned. "You big softie, you."

"Idiot." She grinned back at him; but then the moment's humour faded. "I really don't know what to do, though. All I can think of is to keep on the way we are, and be careful she doesn't find out."

"Not much of a solution," Eitoku told her sombrely.

"No." Impulsively, she hugged him, and buried her face in his shoulder. "I'll work out something," she murmured. "Or, who knows? Maybe she'll find someone else…or just forget about you. Beth-chan has a lot of other things on her mind at the moment." She gave a secret smile as she spoke.

"So," Eitoku said meaningfully, "do I."

Nanako looked up, and found herself staring straight into his eyes, only a few centimetres away. She realised that she was still holding him, and that his own arms were around her as well. Involuntarily, she moved her face closer to his.

There was a startled gasp from right behind her.

Nanako let go of Eitoku and stepped away from him hurriedly. It was much too late, though. As she turned around, she knew, with a doomed prescience, exactly who she would see standing there.

- - -

After classes let out at noon, Beth made her way around to the school gymnasium. The Hiking Club was meeting, and she'd been missing rather a lot of club meetings lately. Nobody had said anything to her yet, and she wanted to keep it that way.

A group of boys were shooting hoops as she walked inside, and she found herself checking their faces automatically. But, of course, the one she was looking for wasn't there; he wasn't the sporting type. Flushing, she hurried past them.

The club held its meetings in a room at the back. She was a little late; as she let herself in, the president was already speaking. He glared at her, and she bobbed her head in mute apology.

He was proposing a club trip to the Minami-Boso reserve, on the far side of Tokyo Bay. Beth listened to the presentation carefully. She wanted to go, but it would be a rather expensive trip and she was not sure that she'd be able to talk her parents into funding it. Besides, it would mean being away from Third Tokyo for a couple of days, and if she were needed as a Senshi…

She emerged from the meeting feeling rather grumpy and unsatisfied. She had never realised before just how disruptive being a Senshi could be on her personal life. Or perhaps, she added honestly, it was that this was the first time her new role might stop her from doing she really wanted to do.

Perhaps, she thought as she stepped outside again, she should talk it over with obaasan. She and Miyo had gotten off to a poor start, with the other girl's veteran-and-rookie attitude, but since then they'd been friendly enough; and Miyo ought to know, if anyone did, how to handle this sort of thing. Surely the Senshi must be allowed _some_ kind of outside life!

They were supposed to be having a combined training session tomorrow; Miyo had called her about it the night before. Apparently Itsuko had come up with a good location somewhere or other. She decided to ask them about time off then.

As she walked on, lost in thought, she became aware of a pair of voices coming from up ahead, just around the next corner. To her surprise, she heard one of them speak her name. Then she realised that they sounded familiar; and in another moment she recognised Nanako's voice.

_She must have waited for me,_ she thought happily. That was nice of her. Beth had hoped to catch her and ask if she wanted to get together that evening. _But who's that with her?_ she wondered. She put on a burst of speed and trotted around the corner, opening her mouth to call a greeting to her friend—

Then she saw who Nanako was with.

Then she saw what they were doing.

And then, at the last, she could do nothing but stand and stare, as embarrassment flooded her cheeks with blood, and shame and betrayal ground splinters in her heart.

- - -

For a long time Nanako could think of nothing to say. She looked helplessly at Beth, and saw the shocked understanding in the other girl's eyes. They were alone; there was nothing in the world but the two of them, caught in a timeless instant. Even Eitoku, standing behind her, had almost ceased to exist.

The silence stretched out until it became unbearable. At last she could stand it no more. "Beth-chan…" she began; but then she quite simply ran out of anything more to say.

Perhaps even that had been too much. As she spoke, she saw something crystallise in her friend's face.

"How long?" Beth asked. Her voice was apparently calm, but there was a faint quaver in it. Her whole body was trembling.

"I—" Again, words failed Nanako. She could not meet the other girl's eyes.

"How long?" Beth repeated. "How long have you been…together?"

Still Nanako did not know how to answer. At last Eitoku saved her. "Several months now," he said quietly. "Since before you started—" He hesitated, then shrugged. "Hanging around."

Her eyes flicked to him, then away again. "How…" She was trembling harder now. Her fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically. "How you must have laughed at me."

Nanako caught her breath in a little gasp. "No!" she burst out. "Beth-chan, you—"

"Don't you call me that!" Beth screamed at her. "Don't you dare lie to me like that again!"

Her unnatural calm broken at last, they could see the tears that stained her cheeks. Eitoku took a single step toward her, holding out one hand. Beth flinched away from him. She yelled something completely incomprehensible, something between a shout and a sob.

Then she turned and fled.

Nanako stood, frozen, for an instant, then started to go after her. A hand on her arm held her back. "Don't," Eitoku told her. "She won't want to listen to you right now."

"But—but I have to—"

He shook his head. "It may be better this way," he suggested. "At least it's all out in the open at last."

"Don't give me that!" she flared, rounding on him furiously. "You're just as guilty as I am!"

Something sparked in his eyes, but he kept his temper. "I suppose I am," he said. "But Nana-chan, even if you caught her, what would you say to her?"

"I—I don't know," Nanako said miserably. "I don't know anything any more." She looked in the direction Beth had run, but the girl was out of sight. She took hold of the hand that he still rested on her arm and clutched it fiercely. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she whispered. "Beth-chan…you can't just leave. I can't lose you like this. I need you…"

Eitoku's eyes widened, but he showed no other reaction. "Give her time," he said. "Give her time."

She nodded. "Maybe," she said with little conviction. She pulled her arm free and walked away, toward the school gate. Eitoku stood staring after her for some time, but she did not look back.

She wandered aimlessly for a while, too wrapped up in bitter private thoughts to pay much attention to where she was going. The streets were filled with people, and most of them seemed happy and cheerful. An hour ago, she'd been just like them. Why did it all have to go so wrong?

When she looked up again, she saw that she was standing outside Beth's house. There was, perhaps, something inevitable about that. She stared at the door for some time, then went up to it and knocked.

Beth's mother answered, and told her that the girl had arrived home a few minutes before, picked up her cat, and hurried out again. She had hardly seen Beth before she was gone.

"Is she in some kind of trouble?" asked McCrea Helen, concerned.

"I hope not," Nanako said. "We had a fight, and…I don't know. I just need to find her. When…when she comes back, could you ask her to call me? Please?"

It would do no good, she knew as the woman nodded. Beth would not call. Maybe not ever.

_Damn it! How am I supposed to fix this?_

- - -

Beth sat in the warehouse yard, in the centre of a pile of rusting old machinery. The whole area was still cordoned off after Wednesday evening's escapade, but she had little trouble slipping past the barriers unseen. She found a spot that was concealed from passers-by and sat there and stared at nothing at all.

She held Bendis on her lap and stroked the cat gently. Her face was perfectly composed and expressionless. Neither of them spoke.

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Keiko had helped her reach a decision, all unknowing, but Suzue found herself hesitating just the same. She would have liked to talk it over with somebody; but then, that was the point, wasn't it?

Finally, on Saturday afternoon, her mother ordered her to stop moping around the house and go and do something. That was too much like what Keiko had said to be ignored. She told herself that waiting any longer would only make it worse, steeled herself, and set out.

She and her family usually attended services at the Queen Heart Chapel, ten minutes' walk from her house. She could not go there today, though; she would be recognised immediately. Instead she caught a bus into town, and made her way to the Mother House of the Church.

Outwardly, the Temple of the Congregation of the Holy Lady was a simple building, three stories high, and painted an unassuming white. There were no signs or logos of any kind. The Church of Serenity had found that they only invited defacement.

Inside, the hall was warm and comforting. It was dimly lit, so that a peaceful hush seemed to fill it; but at the far end there was a raised dais that was bathed in light. On it stood a great statue of a woman in long, flowing robes. Her eyes were raised heavenward, her arms outstretched as if to embrace the world, and there was a serene, welcoming smile on her lips. She was carved from white marble, but there was a loving artistry in the work, and in the subtle way it was lit, that gave her a startling life. The crescent moon on her forehead, inlaid with pure gold, shone brilliantly.

Suzue had only been here a few times before, and the statue had its usual impact on her. She stopped before it and knelt reverently at the Blessed Lady's feet. There was an ornate bowl of clear oil on the altar at the base of the statue. She dipped her fingers in this and traced the symbol of the crescent on her own forehead, then closed her eyes in silent prayer.

When she rose to her feet once more, a minute later, she felt calmer and more resolved than when she had come in. She looked around the hall for a way to the temple offices. There was a plain, unobtrusive door in one corner. She tried the handle tentatively, found it unlocked, and ventured through.

There were men's and women's lavatories nearby. She entered the latter and stared at herself thoughtfully in the mirror for a minute. Then she pulled out a comb.

When she was finished, she took a pair of cheap eyeglasses from her pocket and put them on. The lenses were plain glass; with them on, and with her hair combed out and falling around her face, instead of being drawn back as usual, she looked startlingly different. Anyone who knew her well enough might still recognise her, but she was fairly sure that a stranger would not know her if he saw her again. Satisfied, she walked out of the ladies' again.

There was a minor labyrinth of ancillary rooms at the rear of the temple, but nobody seemed to be about. At last she tried upstairs, and almost immediately bumped into a middle-aged man. He was heavy-set but not fat, with a short, greying beard, and he gave her a sharp, canny look as he helped her to her feet once more.

"Can I help you, young lady?" he asked. "You're not one of our regular assembly, I think."

"No, I—I don't come here very often," she said, flustered. "Please, I—if I may, I'd like to speak to one of the Intercessors."

He raised an eyebrow, then glanced quickly at his watch. "You can talk to me, if you like; I have a few minutes to spare," he said. "I'm Bunya Kenjiro. My office is just down here…"

She followed him obediently, trying to hold onto her little remaining nerve. She felt strongly tempted to run for it.

The Intercessor's office was small and homely, its walls mostly lined with bookshelves. Bunya sat down behind an untidy desk, waved her to a chair opposite, gave her an encouraging smile, and said, "What can I do for you?"

Suzue took a deep breath and said, "It's about the Senshi."

He grimaced. "Isn't it always," he said dryly. "I think half the Faithful in Japan are worried about the Senshi. What's your particular problem? Afraid that the world is about to end? Not sure you're ready to meet the Lady?"

"No. Nothing like that. It's—" She broke off, biting her lip. It wasn't too late to back out of this. There was still time. But she had to try…

"I know who they are," she said in a low voice.

The Intercessor stared for a moment. Then he gave her a very old-fashioned look. "Do you, now," he said.

Suzue did not notice the look. She was too busy studying her hands. "Yes. Mercury, Venus, Mars and Jupiter. Um, and Uranus. I…I've met them." The words were coming more easily now that she was committed. "And the moon cats. Elder, I've met Artemis! He lived in the Holy Moon Kingdom in his own flesh, and I spoke to him! Me! And I even met…"

"Yes?" Bunya's voice was silky-smooth.

She continued, unheeding. Now that she had begun, it was so easy to go on. There were so many things that she had never been able to tell her parents or her friends; so many things that she had longed to share with someone, anyone, if only there were someone she could trust…But here, now, speaking anonymously to an priest of her own faith, she could let it all come pouring out. And oh, it was such a relief! She had never realised how painful it had been, to have nobody to talk to; nobody to share her wonder, her doubts and her fears with. Here, now, in this place, she could feel free.

"I met Hino Rei, Elder," she said softly. "One of the Blessed Lady's own Senshi! She…she's still alive. Still young. She spoke to u—to me about the Perfect Days in Crystal Tokyo, and…the F-fall…how the Great Enemy struck, and they fought for the Blessed Lady, and then She arose and redeemed the world…"

Bunya let out a long-suffering sigh. "Hino Rei died during the Fall, young lady," he told her gravely. "All of the Senshi did. Even the unbelievers know that much."

"No! She talked about that. She said she—she was knocked unconscious in the last battle, and she was badly hurt, and everyone thought she was dead, but she survived! She's been alive all along, waiting for the Senshi to come back!"

"Oh?" He gave her a slightly pitying look. "Then why has she never come forward, young—What is your name, by the way? Forgive me; I should have asked before."

Involuntarily, Suzue froze for an instant. But she had been expecting this question. "I…would rather not say," she told him firmly.

He only shrugged. "Very well. Suppose that Saint Hino is alive, then. Where is she? Why has she kept herself secret? Why has she not come forward to join these new Senshi who fight in the Blessed Lady's name?"

"Because—" Suzue broke off. There were some things she did not want to tell even a priest. That Hino Rei was now powerless was one of them.

"Why has she not approached the Church?" Bunya went on. "Why does she not proclaim the truth of the Blessed Lady's holiness for all to hear? Why does she not denounce the wickedness of the Serenity Council, who take the Blessed Lady's name yet give nothing but persecution to the faithful?"

"Because she isn't one of the faithful," said Suzue in a small voice.

The Intercessor was silent. "I beg your pardon?" he said at last in a forbidding voice.

"She—she isn't. She said that it…it was nonsense. She said the Blessed Lady was just an, an ordinary human. I don't—I don't think any of the other Senshi are believers," she added miserably.

Bunya simply gazed at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head slowly. "Now you've disappointed me," he said.

That was a long way from what Suzue had expected. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"At first I thought it was quite a clever story. Untrue, of course, but simple enough, and hard to poke holes in. But now you're simply getting foolish. Lady Hino was one of the Holy Serenity's closest disciples. She witnessed the Blessed Lady's power many times; she herself was raised from the dead twice. The idea that she might call the Lady 'an ordinary human' isn't just blasphemy…it's _ridiculous_.

"The rest of your story is just as bad. You know all the Senshi, and naturally they're happy to pour out their hearts to you. How very convenient. Oh, and Artemis is there, too, to deliver sage wisdom! I'm surprised you didn't tell me he jumped through hoops for you.

"And of course, you 'would rather not say' who you are. Tell me—" He half-rose from his seat, looming over her, and she shrank back involuntarily from the growing anger in his face. "You aren't actually one of the faithful at all, are you?" he demanded. "I suppose this is some kind of clever prank? 'Let's make fools of the Loonies again!' Very humorous, yes."

"No…I—" she began.

He sank back into his chair. "It doesn't matter," he said. There was a weary contempt in his voice. "Just leave, please. These are trying enough times for the Church without having to suffer this kind of utter inanity. If you actually care about the Lady at all, I'd suggest you pray to Her for a little common sense and respect. Otherwise—" He looked away from her, his face set in a heavy scowl. "Don't waste my time."

"No," she whispered. "You don't understand."

Bunya did not look back. "Go."

She dithered for a moment longer; but at last she stood up and fled his office. He did not try to follow her. She ran downstairs and out through the hall. The statue on its dais still looked upward, its hands reached out to embrace the world, but now it seemed to her that the smile on its impossibly perfect features was a mocking one. She gave it one last wounded look and ran on.

At last, several blocks from the temple, she came to a halt, gasping for breath. She pulled the glasses off and threw them away, not caring where they landed, and pulled the hair back from her eyes. She blinked around at the street, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her. And why should they? She was a foolish time-wasting prankster, spouting utter inanities.

How dare he!

To her distant surprise, she felt only rage. How dare he! He was supposed to be one of the Blessed Lady Serenity's Intercessors; a priest, a holy man, a wise and learned man who could examine the evidence in a matter and interpret the will of the Lady. But at the slightest hint that he might be wrong, he erupted in anger; he would not even consider the possibility that he might be mistaken. How _dare_ he!

A memory came back to her: of Pappadopoulos Itsuko, scowling at her with exactly the same kind of look of scorn on her face. _Holy men are just as capable of being blind, or ignoring what's right under their noses, as anyone else,_ she had said. Apparently she was right after all.

Then Suzue froze. _As capable of being blind as anybody else._ Itsuko had said it herself. _Anybody_ else.

If Bunya was wrong…wasn't it possible that Itsuko was wrong too?

She walked down the street for a little, turning the idea over in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Hino Rei had been one of the Blessed Lady's closest friends. Wasn't it likely—even inevitable—that she would be reluctant to accept her friend's divinity?

With new resolve, she looked around. There was a comm booth a couple of blocks away. She hurried over to it, inserted her credit chit, and tapped in a number that she read off a piece of paper from her pocket.

"Hello?" said a voice in her ear, a few moments later.

"Pappadopoulos-san?" she said. "This is Itagaki Suzue."

There was a slight pause. Then Itsuko said, "Wait a moment." Suzue heard a faint click. "There," Itsuko went on. "Now we can talk. What is it?"

Suzue took a deep breath. "Do you remember what we were discussing on Sunday night, after the meeting?" she asked.

There was a sudden wariness in Itsuko's voice. "Yes?"

"Well," said Suzue, "I've decided that you were wrong. And I'm going to make you see the error of your ways."

And the explosion of confusion and outrage at the other end of the comm link was simply _wonderful_.

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Mitsukai Senritsu finished transmitting the last batch of data over to the Han Domain, and added a quick note to Lieutenant Murasaki. She looked at the next piece of work on her list—correlating the last of the data captured during the Hoseki raid—and then closed the folder instead and sat back with a sigh.

It was early morning, a little after dawn, and the air inside the 'S' Division van was stuffy and overheated. She had just worked another all-night marathon, her third in a week. Her eyes were dry and she had a headache. She was, she thought, beginning to get a little tired of the sight of her computer screen.

Her brow wrinkled. With a sigh and a cracking of stiffened joints, she stood up and went to the rear of the van. A quick check showed that nobody was around. She opened the doors, stepped out, and stood blinking in the half-light.

The air outside was fresh and moist and at this hour, still cool. There was almost no traffic on the roads yet. Overhead, the sky was a clear paling blue. It was going to be a hot day. She looked around and felt her face relaxing into a rare smile.

She leaned back against the side of the van and yawned. Absently, she tried to remember how long it had been since she had last slept. If Hiiro were here, she knew, he would order her to get out and not come back for a couple of days. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.

On the other hand, there was, as always, a mountain of work waiting to be done. Perhaps if she just caught a quick nap…she had a bedroll hidden in one of the equipment lockers. It wouldn't be the first time she'd slept in the van. Though if any of the others caught her doing it, they'd tease her; and she hated that more than almost anything.

For a brief instant the idea of going home to sleep occurred to her. Then she dismissed it scornfully. Some things didn't bear thinking about.

She was about to climb back into the van when she heard footsteps coming toward her. She snapped her head around, instantly alert, and then relaxed when she saw who it was. Kitada Masao. What was he doing here at this hour?

"Hi, Lieutenant," he said cheerfully as he came up to the van at an easy jog. "You got the early shift again, huh?"

Mitsukai looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded shortly, still wondering why he was here. Kitada hadn't been to the van in a couple of weeks. It surprised her that Captain Hiiro hadn't sent him back to his real job yet; he was only an Irregular, after all.

Actually, it had been a while since she'd seen much of any of the team, not just Kitada. The cat search had never been formally cancelled by headquarters, but it had more or less fallen apart just the same. It had been an absurd assignment in the first place, and after so many weeks without results nobody believed it would succeed.

The whole team had found other things to do instead—unofficially, of course. Captain Hiiro had led the recent Sankaku raids, and was now assisting a group that monitored Sankaku operations throughout Japan. (The raids had been prompted by his team's work at the Olympus, so at least the said work hadn't been a _complete_ waste of time.) Kuroi was spending most of his time putting Kitada through an intense form of basic training. Mitsukai herself had simply retreated to her computers; there was always plenty to do for a good analyst. Captain Aoiro had been the last to give up; but even he had almost abandoned his surveillance within the building.

Kitada did not seem put out by her long silence. "Captain Kuroi told me to come in and see if you've got anything he could use for an EE exercise," he went on. "Sometimes I think he's trying to see how many different operating protocols he can hit me with before I crack." He gave a wry shrug, then grinned. "At least it's a bit more challenging than accountancy."

His grin widened. "If Sachiko could see me now!"

Mitsukai ignored the last comment, and thought for a moment. Electronic Espionage operating protocols? That covered a lot of territory; EE work was often as much art as science.

Kuroi wouldn't want anything advanced, though. Urged by a sudden mischievous spirit, she suggested, "There's the security cameras. Nobody's checked them in a while."

Kitada gave her a mock-horrified look. "Not the cameras," he begged. "Please. Anything but that."

Mitsukai smirked back at him. There was a battery of twenty-six hidden cameras monitoring the Olympus building. They had set them up after Artemis had been seen in the area; but it had been a long time since anybody had bothered to look at the recordings. It was a stupendously boring job.

She let the grin fade and became thoughtful. What would be a good EE job for a beginner? "How about the data from the Hoseki raid last week?" she said. She hadn't finished matching it against known Sankaku operations yet. If he finished that, it would save her the time; and even better, nobody would care if he screwed it up.

Kitada's eyebrows rose. "Sure, why not?" he said. "After all, I was sort of part-responsible for it happening in the first place."

She shrugged, and climbed into the van. Kitada followed and stood behind her as she pulled up the data on her computer. "I don't quite see what they expected to get out of the raid, anyway," he said idly. "I thought we'd already ruled out the link between Pappadopoulos-san and the Sankaku."

Mitsukai glanced over her shoulder at him, then returned her attention to the monitor. "They didn't _expect_ anything," she said shortly. "We'll be able to confirm that the Sankaku didn't have any connection with Pappadopoulos-san, but nobody _expects_ any more than that." Her fingers rattled over the keys. "The raid was a demonstration, that's all. We were…pruning the Sankaku back a little."

He blinked at her. "I think that's the most I've ever heard you say at once."

She ignored this, too, and said impatiently, "Look." She typed in a query to bring up the records on the Olympus building from the captured Hoseki data. The screen lit up with the data a moment later. "There. Exactly what we already knew."

Kitada nodded. "The security contract, right," he said. "We found that when we went back through the paper records—" He broke off as she stiffened abruptly. "What? What's wrong?"

She stared at the screen, a tiny frown on her face. Then she suddenly seemed to notice him once more. "What? Oh. Sorry. It's nothing," she said hastily. Her eyes flicked to the contract, then away again. "I just…thought of something. It's not important."

Her hands moved quickly at the keyboard; she dumped all the Hoseki files to a data wand, and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "The records need to be matched against known Sankaku movements and agents, and then searched for patterns of material, money or data flows. Captain Kuroi will know how."

His face fell. "That doesn't sound much more interesting than the cameras," he muttered under his breath. She simply glared at him in response. He was perfectly correct, but she did not have to admit it. At last, thankfully, he took the wand and left.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. Kitada was a talented beginner, but he hadn't seen the significance of the contract; and that was good, because it gave her time to think about what it meant.

Nearly a month before, she and Kitada had searched the archives at 'S' Division to investigate a possible link between Pappadopoulos Itsuko and the Sankaku Clans. They had found a deed of sale and a security contract, both between Pappadopoulos and Hoseki.

But Hoseki's own records only showed the security contract. There was no sign of the sale.

She thought it over, then ran some checks over the rest of the Hoseki records. They seemed complete, apart from this one item. If the Olympus sale was missing…could Hoseki have some reason to conceal it? She let out a faint hiss. If so, it might suggest that there actually _was_ a link between Pappadopoulos and the Sankaku!

Strange, how she no longer felt sleepy at all.

She left the van, locking it and activating the security system behind her. Then she walked three blocks east and caught a bus into the city centre. Some of the other passengers eyed her rumpled clothing, sniffed the air, and made faces and edged away from her. Mitsukai did not even notice. Should she tell Captain Hiiro about this? Not yet. It might still be a mistake. Maybe.

Twenty minutes later she pulled out her pale blue ID tag, clipped it to her breast pocket, and marched into 'S' Division headquarters.

The records section was three levels underground. She had to show her ID twice to get in. A number of people gave her dirty looks as she entered; she'd left quite a mess behind the last time she'd been here. She ignored them and went into the archives. She remembered what box she was looking for and went straight to it.

A few moments' search brought her a copy of a property-transfer notice. Pappadopoulos Itsuko had acquired the Olympus building in 4179. Mitsukai nodded to herself, took a note of the record number, and returned to the records section. She found an unused computer terminal and tapped in an enquiry.

The monitor lit up with a copy of a deed of sale: the same one she and Kitada had found before. She nodded to herself. That much was all in order. She started to clear the display—and then hesitated. Then she went back to the archives and found the property-transfer notice again. This time she took it out with her and compared it to the document on the monitor.

The details didn't match.

The names, dates and filing numbers were the same; but that was about all. Otherwise, the two documents could have been referring to two different properties altogether. In fact—

She entered a new enquiry into the computer. This one took several minutes to complete; but at last a new record flashed up on the screen. Mitsukai studied it carefully. It was almost identical to the other deed of sale; even the signatures were the same. But this deed was for the sale of a property in Hokkaido.

Somebody had broken into the 'S' Division computers. They had taken a copy of the Hokkaido document, altered a few details to refer to the Olympus building, and loaded it into the records.

Well. This _was_ getting interesting. Someone was anxious to hide something about the Olympus. Who could have the resources to pull this off? The Sankaku?

After a few minutes' thought, she cleared the computer and asked it to link to the 'I' Division records system. This took some time—she had to go through several levels of authentication and authorisation—but at last the system granted her access. She entered the filing code from the paper property-transfer notice. That was the most likely to be accurate.

The computer displayed a new document, and she blinked in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it.

It took her several more hours, but at last she was able to confirm that the information from 'I' Division seemed to be accurate. Pappadopoulos Itsuko hadn't bought the Olympus building in 4179 at all. She'd inherited it. The previous owner, a woman in her mid-forties, had died and left it to Pappadopoulos, a distant relative.

The legacy was all perfectly legal and quite unremarkable. So why was somebody trying to conceal it?

What _else_ were they trying to hide?

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The day turned out blisteringly hot. The sky was a clear, dazzling blue; there was hardly a breath of wind. Late that morning, five teenage girls and a tabby cat met in a small park near the outskirts of Third Tokyo.

Iku and Dhiti arrived separately by bus, to find Miyo already there waiting for them. A few minutes later Suzue's mother dropped her off, followed shortly after by Beth and Bendis in Beth's father's car. The six stood for a few moments, looking about.

"We're supposed to train here?" asked Dhiti at last. "Hate to break it to you, Hayashi, but there are people around. They might kind of notice something."

"Oh, I don't know," said Bendis thoughtfully. "It depends on what sort of training she's got in mind. I've got one or two ideas…"

"Let me guess," said Dhiti. "Senshi ninja training! How Not To Be Seen."

Bendis gave her an interested look. "Not bad," she said. "Though I was actually thinking of—"

"Do you mind?" put in Miyo. "We're just waiting for Itsuko. She's got some kind of scheme cooked up. She wouldn't tell me what it is, but I think we're going to—wait a moment. There she is."

They looked and saw a van driving up toward the park. It was making a most peculiar noise. Instead of the regular hum of an electric motor, it made a kind of low, purring rumble that it took them a few seconds to identify.

"That's an alcohol engine!" exclaimed Suzue. "Where did she get one of those? A farm?"

Miyo shrugged; but she, too, was staring. She was spared having to answer as Itsuko pulled to a halt in front of the group and called out, "Hop in."

They clambered inside and found seats. As Itsuko threw the van into gear again and drove off, they threw a chorus of questions at her: "Where are we going?" "Where did you get this van?" "Is it yours?"

"Oh, I know a few people," she answered vaguely, keeping her eyes on the road. "And we're going out of town a way. I thought we'd have more privacy there."

"Hey, neat!" said Dhiti. "I've hardly ever been out into the countryside."

"I have," said Beth. "The Hiking Club at school goes out five or six times a year. Mostly it's by train, but a couple of times the school's hired a bus."

Itsuko sighed. "Sometimes I think it was a mistake to switch to electric cars, back in the Forties. They don't have much range, so people don't often go out of town any more."

"Well, no," said Suzue logically, "but then, there isn't really very much to _do_ out of town, is there? So why bother to go?"

Itsuko turned her head for a moment to glance at her. "That," she said, "is exactly the problem."

"What?" Suzue stared at her, baffled; but Itsuko only shook her head and concentrated on driving.

It took them a few minutes to get out of the city. A great mass of railway lines led south-east from Third Tokyo, and the road followed them for some distance. Then it turned east and ran on through broad stretches of fields on either side. For a while, as they left Third Tokyo behind, there were other cars on the road with them. After an hour or so, though, they passed the return-distance range of an electric car, and drove on virtually alone. The condition of the road grew rapidly worse after that point. They saw an occasional farm truck, but nothing else.

Itsuko had to keep most of her attention on the road, but she spared an ear to listen to the girls in the rear of the van. The five of them chattered away merrily, completely at ease. Dhiti did most of the talking, unsurprisingly, but the others joined in freely. Even Iku spoke up a few times, usually at Dhiti's rather unsubtle coaxing. Beth was rather quiet for a time, as if she had something on her mind, but after a little she too seemed to relax and start to enjoy herself. Suzue, on the other hand, did not say a lot, and seldom smiled; but when she did speak, there was a note in her voice that showed that she was enjoying herself; and once, when for some reason or other the others were arguing about music, she startled them all by bursting into song, in a clear, pure voice that had everyone in the van applauding when she finished.

(She was going to have to have a serious talk with Suzue. 'Error of her ways,' indeed!)

And as for Miyo…Itsuko smiled to herself. Miyo remained Miyo. Not quite the Makoto she had once been, more than two thousand years ago, to be sure. She was less self-reliant in this life, and seemingly less of a starry-eyed romantic as well. That came of growing up with a family, Itsuko supposed, and especially with two brothers. Their loss had hurt her deeply, and Itsuko knew that she still cried about it at night; but now, hearing her laughing and joking with the other girls, she thought that perhaps this day out was the best medicine Miyo could have had.

At any rate, the girls seemed to be coming together nicely. That was a relief. Itsuko had been afraid that, without the uniting presence of a Sailor Moon to lead them, they would never really grow close enough to become the team they needed to be. She was uncomfortably aware of how little she herself had had in common with the other Senshi, long ago. If they had not had Usagi as their focus, befriending them willy-nilly and binding them to her with her warmth, her love and her care, they would never have fitted together.

But so far, this new team seemed to be working out well enough. Miyo had, perhaps inevitably, become their de facto leader. They teased her mercilessly—even Suzue had started calling her 'obaasan' now—but they respected her nonetheless. Why, when Beth had thought Miyo was in trouble, she had not hesitated to call the other Senshi together and rush out to rescue her…

Itsuko grimaced at the thought. She was still not sure what to do about that fiasco; but she was going to have to talk to Beth about it sometime today. Perhaps Artemis would have some idea of how to handle it.

Then, with a sudden shock, she heard what the girls in the back were talking about now, and realised that she was not going to have the leisure to plot strategies with the moon cat.

"—Go on," Dhiti was saying, a wicked glint in her eye. "We'd love to hear all about it. To get the other point of view." She shot a glance at Miyo and added, "Since Hayashi and I were…you know, all tied up at the time."

"Oh…" Beth looked nervous. "I suppose so. Um." She squirmed about in her seat for a moment, glancing at Bendis; but the cat remained oddly silent. "Well. You see, I was trying to get hold of Sailor Jupiter, to find out what had happened about the, um, the bodies at the warehouse, but she wasn't answering her communicator…"

Itsuko saw Miyo's sudden start in the rear-vision mirror, and then her look of mortification, and had to stifle a groan. So that was how the whole thing had begun. She glanced over at Artemis, who was curled up in the other front seat, but he simply gave her a helpless shrug.

Beth went on with her story, gradually shedding her embarrassment as she warmed to her subject. Suzue threw in a word of confirmation now and then. Gradually it all came out: the raid on the warehouse; the Opal, and the men who captured Sailor Mars; and the last-minute victory when Mars prevented the enemy from escaping with the captive Mercury and Jupiter.

Dhiti listened to it all, totally rapt, her eyes shining. The smile on her face grew wider and wider as the story wore on. "Amazing," she said when Beth fell silent at last. "Just amazing. We were really lucky there, weren't we, Hayashi?"

Miyo opened her mouth to answer, looking pained; but before she could speak, Artemis broke in. "Just a minute," he said. "These men said they were from the Sankaku clans?"

"Umm," said Iku, taken aback. "Yes. They said they were in disguise. They said…" She bit her lip. "They said they were going to eliminate us," she finished in a small voice.

"The Sankaku," Artemis murmured. "That doesn't make sense. They're organised crime. Why would they be fighting us?"

"Could they be allies of Lady Blue, do you think?" asked Beth. Then her face fell. "But she's never needed allies before…"

"They might have some kind of resources that she needs," mused Suzue. "For all we know, they may be stealing Crystal Tokyo relics for her. That could explain that tracker unit she had at the theatre."

"Good point," said Artemis. "And we know the Enemy controls crystal, so he'd probably have been able to get it working, too."

"Wait a minute," said Dhiti, startled. "You don't mean you're taking this seriously?"

"Why wouldn't he?" asked Beth innocently.

"Dhiti-san, Miyo-san, did they say anything to you that might suggest what they're planning?" asked Suzue.

"What?" said Miyo, visibly taken aback. "To me?" She flushed suddenly. "Er, they…I mean—I'm not—" Gradually, she stuttered to a halt. Beth, Suzue and Iku all stared at her.

"Go on, Hayashi," said Dhiti wickedly. "We're on tenterhooks here."

"I—" Miyo looked at the three expectant faces, then away again. "Damn it, Dhiti-chan!" she burst out. "This is all your fault!"

"_My_ fault? Hey, they did it, not me! Where do you get—"

"No, but you let them go on believing it!"

There was a moment's silence. Then Dhiti said, very quietly, "You could have told them any time you liked, Hayashi. You could do it right now."

Miyo winced. "I—no, you're right. I'm sorry…"

Beth looked from Miyo to Dhiti and back. Her face was a mask of confusion. "What are you two _talking_ about?"

With a sigh, Suzue said, "I think they mean that…It wasn't true, was it? You two were never prisoners at all."

Dhiti looked at her, then away again. "No," she admitted.

"I was in the bath," Miyo confessed. "I didn't have my communicator with me. I just…never heard it. I'm sorry, Beth-chan."

"What?" said Beth wildly. "But—but that can't be right! You had to be! I mean—those men, they admitted it! They _said_ they had you prisoner!"

"I did wonder if it was a wild-goose chase, while we were in the warehouse yard," said Suzue thoughtfully. "But then…Beth is right. Those men _did_ tell us—well, they told Iku-san…"

Suddenly everyone was looking at Iku. She shrank back in her seat, shaking her head wildly. "No!" she said. "I swear! They did tell me, they did! They said they had two of us prisoner on the Opal!"

The other girls exchanged glances. Then Artemis put in, "But you didn't see any Senshi escape from the Opal, and if they'd been trapped on board the firemen would have found them; it'd have been on the news."

Miyo nodded. "The Sankaku were lying."

"Lying," Beth echoed. "Of course." She looked up at Miyo and Dhiti, and there was a strange emptiness in her eyes. "It's true, isn't it?" she said. It was not a question. "You weren't in any danger. You weren't even there. I was just…playing the fool. Leading the others into danger, and all for nothing."

Bendis stirred on her lap. "Beth-chan, it's not like that," she began.

"Isn't it?" Beth stared at her for a moment. Then, deliberately, she picked the cat up and placed her on the floor of the van. "All this time, Bendis. You—you knew, but you let me go on thinking it was real, all this time. I thought I was doing something important there! I thought we'd _won_ something!"

"You jumped to conclusions all by yourself, and you didn't want to listen when I tried to tell you!" the cat exclaimed. "And besides, even if there wasn't anything there I thought it'd make a good training exercise…"

"Training exercise. Of course," Beth said. She gazed at Bendis for a moment longer, then shook her head. "You and Nanako," she whispered. "Both of you."

Bracing herself against the swaying of the van, she stood up and made her way carefully back to the unoccupied rear seat. She sat down there, turned her face to the window, and closed her eyes.

The van rumbled on, its occupants noticeably quieter than they had been. They had left the fields behind, and the road now wound its way gradually up into the hills. The land about them was covered with thick bush; and then, minutes later, a real forest. It had been some time since they had seen another vehicle.

And then at last, when the silence in the rear of the van was almost thick enough to cut with a knife, Itsuko let out a pleased "Ah!" and turned the van off the main road, onto a narrow, almost invisible lane that led off through the trees. They bumped along for a few minutes more, branches scraping the windows on either side, and then suddenly emerged into a large grassy clearing.

Itsuko brought the van to a shuddering halt. "Everybody out!" she announced. "We're here."

- - -

The girls clambered out of the van, stretching and groaning, and began to explore the clearing, chattering excitedly among themselves. Somebody called out, "Hey, there's a stream over here!" and they disappeared en masse. Bendis hovered in the door for a minute, looking at the long grass suspiciously, before finally jumping down and disappearing from sight almost instantly.

In the front of the van, Artemis and Itsuko exchanged glances. "You'd better go keep an eye on them," the woman said softly. "There's a pit toilet behind the bushes on the west side; let them know, would you? I'll take care of things here."

"Pit toilet," Artemis muttered. "They'll love that." He glanced back at the rear of the van, where one girl still sat motionless, and nodded. "Go easy on her," he suggested, just as softly. "I think there's something else wrong there, too. Bendis may know; I'll have a word with her." Itsuko raised her eyebrows, then nodded back. He leaped out of the van and ran off in the direction the others had taken.

Itsuko sat thinking for a minute or two. Then she climbed down from the driver's seat and walked around to the back, not hurrying. When she got there, she sat down beside the remaining girl. Neither of them spoke for some time.

"So, how long are you planning to go on feeling sorry for yourself?" Itsuko asked at last.

Beth did not answer. She did not react at all.

"You didn't do everything wrong, you know," Itsuko pointed out. "From what I can make out, you led the raid quite well. That was a sound strategy you gave the others at the gate."

"Sound strategy!" Beth spat, still not looking around. "I didn't even follow it myself."

"You let your enthusiasm get the better of you," Itsuko said mildly. "I've known other Senshi to do the same thing. Your predecessor, for example. Or Sailor Jupiter. Or even me."

"Yeah? Did you ever lead the other Senshi on a non-existent mission that you'd convinced yourself was real?"

She suppressed a grin. "Not that, no." Then, more seriously, hoping she had judged the right moment, she said, "Beth-chan, why don't you tell me what the real problem is?"

Beth never moved, but Itsuko felt an immediate withdrawal from the girl. She had expected that, though, and refused to back off. She simply sat, waiting.

"I don't want to talk about that," the girl said at last in a low voice. "I…I don't know you. You're not my friend."

"No. I'm not here as a friend."

And at that, finally, Beth looked around, and Itsuko knew that she had guessed aright. "You aren't, are you?" the girl asked wonderingly.

Itsuko shook her head, carefully not smiling. She did not speak.

"I thought _she_ was my friend," Beth said abruptly. "Nanako. I thought I could trust her. But she lied to me. She'd been lying all along. And I thought: at least Bendis is still my friend. I can always trust her." She turned miserable eyes up to Itsuko. "Then I found out I was wrong again. And…and that doesn't _leave_ anyone."

A variety of comforting responses occurred to Itsuko. She ignored them all and said, "Tell me about Nanako."

It took some time, and a great many digressions. Beth started to cry half-way through the story, and Itsuko lent her a handkerchief without comment. Eventually she got the story straight. A fairly unexceptional teenage crush, and Beth was just the sort of girl to get caught in it: bright but naïve, somewhat introverted, and with an active fantasy life. She rather thought that Beth had walked into the situation in exactly the same way as she'd walked into the fiasco at the warehouse. Though this other girl, Nanako, and the putative boyfriend certainly deserved a good shaking for the way they'd handled it…

"So what are you going to do?" she asked, when Beth was finished at last.

"What am _I_…?" The girl trailed off, and Itsuko saw that she'd won new respect. She hadn't offered advice. She was letting _Beth_ make the decision.

"I don't know," Beth said after a moment. "I'm going to have to see them at school tomorrow. I don't know what I _can_ do."

"I expect they'll both be very apologetic when you see them. You might want to consider what you're going to say."

Beth thought about that. "I will," she said.

"Good." Itsuko gave her a quick nod. Then she got up and started to climb down out of the van. Half-way out the door she paused and said, "Beth-chan? You made some mistakes on Wednesday night. But they were just mistakes. That's all. You know that?"

For an instant she thought she'd taken it too fast. Then, low but firm, Beth said, "Yes."

"Well, Bendis made some mistakes too." Itsuko waited, staring the girl in the eyes, until she saw the slow understanding in her face. Then, without waiting for an answer, she stepped out and walked briskly away from the van, not looking back.

After a few minutes, Beth followed her.

- - -

"Is she going to be all right?" asked Artemis.

"I think so," Itsuko replied thoughtfully. "She needed to get a little perspective, that's all. Give her a while to sort things out and she should be fine."

"Mm. I suppose." Artemis gave a feline shrug and said, "What about the other girls? It's nearly noon. Did you want to feed them all now, or do something before lunch?"

"Well…it took longer to get here than I remembered." Itsuko considered for a moment. "Let them relax for a bit longer, I'd say," she answered at last. "We'd have a job getting anything serious out of them right now anyway." Some distance off, there came a startled shriek, the sound of a splash, and then laughter.

"You think?" he answered cynically. He gazed around the clearing for a moment or two, then said, "Well, let them run wild for a bit. You picked a nice spot. Handy, that you happened to know about it."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Convenient that a place this far out of the city has toilet facilities, too. Although I thought I noticed a lot of old tyre tracks on the lane we came down."

"Really?" Itsuko gave him an amused look.

Artemis let out an exasperated sigh. "All right, I'll say it, then. Do I need to be worried about company here?"

She laughed. "No. The, ah, gatherings that happen here are rather tightly scheduled. The next fair isn't for over six weeks. Even if the girls tear the place up a bit today, by then nobody will notice."

"'Fair'?" Artemis shuddered. "No. Don't tell me; I don't want to know." He looked around the clearing again with a jaundiced eye, as if expecting to see it littered with the sinister evidence of dark, illicit deeds. There was, disappointingly, nothing but a wide, grassy clearing, lined with trees.

Shaking his head, he said, "Anyway, that wasn't the only thing I wanted to talk about. While I've got you here…there's something I've been meaning to give you."

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Be still, my heart. What?"

He concentrated briefly, then spun about in a circle, as if chasing his tail. An instant later, there was a muffled thump in the grass. Artemis nosed the object that had appeared, and after a second Itsuko bent down and picked it up.

The sudden shock of recognition was almost too much. "A communicator?" she said.

"Yes. It's, er, your old one. I found it in the palace, after…well, you know. The one Iku-san has is Younger Mars', of course."

She stared at the device, a complex mixture of emotions playing across her face. "Why?" she asked. "And why now?"

"Oh—you never know. I just thought, if any of them ever need to contact you in a hurry…"

"I see." Itsuko looked at it for a minute or two longer, hardly seeming to breathe. At last, fumbling a little, she strapped it onto her wrist. "Thank you," she said, her voice rough.

Then, hastily, she cleared her throat. In a deliberate and very obvious effort to change the subject, she said, "Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, too. Can you talk to Bendis for me? If she's willing, I'd like her to hunt around the Olympus sometime, and see if she can find who's listening in on the other end of those bugs."

Artemis stared at her. "You wait until _now_ to bring that up? How long have those bugs been there already?"

"I had to wait until you found Bendis before I could ask at all!" she snapped. "I can't send you; there's already someone looking for you. Maybe even the same people. I don't know. Anyway, I'd have asked her last week, but…" She grimaced. "You know how that ended up."

"Yes." Artemis looked away guiltily. "I'm surprised you'd want _me_ to talk to her at all," he admitted.

"Oh, don't you go getting all self-pitying too!" Itsuko exclaimed. "It's bad enough I have to—to go mothering Miyo and Beth. I refuse to hold your paw as well!"

He froze for a moment, then gave a quick snort of laughter. "Terrible thought," he muttered.

"Isn't it?" She smiled at him, then sobered. "Artemis, Bendis has made her choice," she told him. "It's high time you patch things up with her, don't you think? Trusting her with a job you can't do yourself should be a good start."

He was silent for some time. "Maybe," he said grudgingly.

- - -

Beth found a shady spot on the bank of the stream and sat down. The other girls were talking and laughing some distance off, but for the moment she felt no impulse to join them.

Some time passed. The stream was shallow and fast-moving; the chuckling of the water and the sound of far-off birdsong were very peaceful. There was a sweet scent in the air, coming from some plant she could not identify. She felt relaxed, sleepy.

At last she heard what she had been waiting for: the faint, deliberate rustling sound of a small body pushing its way through the bushes toward her. She did not look back; did not move at all. "Hello, Bendis-chan," she said softly.

There was no reply. The rustling came again, then fell to silence. She felt a small body arranging itself at her side, a few centimetres away.

They sat, staring down at the water. Neither spoke. The sound of the other girls' voices in the distance fell away gradually, until the only noise left was the stream below them. A pair of birds flew into a tree just across the stream with a flurry of wings and began to call to each other. A dragonfly skimmed across the water.

"Sometimes," Bendis said, so quietly that Beth could hardly hear her, "sometimes you frighten me, Beth-chan."

Beth nodded.

"I mean, you never seem to _think_ about things. You just act, and assume it'll all work out somehow…"

"Go with the flow," Beth whispered, staring into the water. "You told me that."

"But where will the flow lead you?" asked Bendis. "If you don't look where you're going before you dive in, you could end up…anywhere."

"So, what then?" she asked in reply. "Are you saying I should hold back, be afraid to get my feet wet?"

"No," the cat answered. "But you could try looking before you leap. Pick a direction that's going to take you where you _want_ to go."

"Maybe. I…" Beth shook her head. "I don't want to play word-games any more. Why, Bendis-chan? Why didn't you tell me it was a wild-goose chase? All right, yes, I know, I didn't want to hear you…but afterward? Why didn't you tell me then?"

Bendis was silent for a minute. "Those men at the warehouse," she said at last. "What were they doing? If they were really Sankaku, where did they get an 'M' Division Opal?"

Beth shook her head. "I don't know."

"Neither do I. There was something strange going on there, Beth-chan. You may not have rescued any Senshi, but I think you stumbled onto something important all the same. And that means it wasn't a wild-goose chase after all, doesn't it?"

"You should still have told me," Beth said stubbornly.

"I suppose so." The cat sighed. "I may come close, but I'm not perfect."

Beth smiled, finally. "That," she said, "makes two of us."

- - -

When the two of them finally emerged from the bushes it was to a changed scene. A blanket was spread out on the grass, and Miyo was unloading food from a picnic hamper. Dhiti was helping her, stealing a bite every now and then, and talking almost constantly. Suzue was unpacking paper plates and napkins, while Itsuko brought a cooler full of drinks from the van. Iku was hanging back a little, watching, apparently unable to take her eyes off the food. Beth, having tasted Miyo's cooking before, could not blame her.

Beth and Bendis exchanged glances. "Where did they _get_ all this stuff?" Beth wondered. "I don't remember seeing any of this in the van."

"Did you look?" asked Bendis logically.

Beth was about to reply when Miyo called out, "Okay, everyone! Dig in!" She promptly forgot what she had been going to say. The blanket became a swarm of activity, and the two lost no time in joining in.

- - -

Dhiti found a position at one corner of the spread, took a plate, and began to help herself. She had to avoid the chicken—Bendis had staked out the plate, and was growling and snapping at anyone else who tried to touch it—but there was enough that nobody seemed to mind. One of Hayashi's meals, even if only a light lunch, was something to savour.

As she settled back to eat, she glanced around the clearing. This was kind of nice, she found herself thinking. To be out in the countryside for the day, surrounded by wild trees and bushes. There were all kinds of growing things she'd never seen before; birds in the trees that never came near the city; even the stream had been a novelty. (Her pants were drying off quickly, thank goodness.) It had been a long time since she'd been outside Third Tokyo; not since that school trip, three years ago. But then they'd been under strict supervision.

The others seemed to like it too, she saw, studying the faces clustered around the food. Except maybe Suzue; she didn't really seem to approve of all this growing stuff. (And she had been so careful not to get wet, crossing the stream, that Dhiti had just _had_ to splash her.) Or Iku, who was so tentative about everything that it was impossible to tell what she thought about anything at all.

At that thought, her eyes sought Iku out. The girl was an enigma, one that Dhiti longed to unravel. Even if she hadn't made that bet with Bendis last week, she would have found her fascinating. How could anyone be that _shy_?

A shyness which, she noticed a moment later, had its own penalties. She leaned over and nudged Iku on the arm, and murmured, "You have to help yourself, you know. If you keep holding back like that, there isn't going to be anything left."

Iku jerked at the touch with a gasp, and Dhiti shook her head, tut-tutting patiently. "Now, now. I'm not going to bite you," she said. "I already told you that once."

The other girl relaxed slowly. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm sorry…"

"What for? You haven't done anything wrong," Dhiti told her. "Here, have a drink.—On second thought," she went on, a sudden glint in her eye, "maybe you have done something wrong. Kodama Iku-chan, you have been found guilty of diffidence above and beyond the call of duty. As punishment, I sentence you to walk the plank!" She gave a melodramatic sigh. "Now, if only I had a parrot—"

"I…I can't swim," Iku said in a tiny voice. "Do I really have to?"

"Absolutely!" Dhiti winked. "Next time we come across a pirate ship, you're in big trouble."

- - -

Itsuko gave them another twenty minutes, then clapped her hands for attention. "All right, everybody," she called out. "It's time to get down to business. We've only got a few hours before we have to start back, so don't waste time, please."

Dhiti shot up to her feet, and saluted smartly. "Aye-aye, ma'am!" she rapped. "Awaiting your orders, ma'am!"

Itsuko took absolutely no notice. "All of you, transform, please," she said briskly. "Artemis and I have worked out a few exercises we want you to try."

The girls exchanged glances. Then Miyo stood and pulled out her henshin wand. Moments later, the other four joined her.

"JUPITER POWER, MAKE-UP!" "VENUS POWER, MAKE-UP!" "MERCURY POWER, MAKE-UP!" "URANUS PLANET POWER, MAKE-UP!" "Mars power, make-up…"

As the air filled with a whirlwind of light and colour, Itsuko had to close her eyes. The reminder was too sharp: what she had been, and what she could no longer be. Then, grimly refusing to give in, she opened her eyes once more and looked for the one she knew would be among them. Her replacement.

To her surprise, when she saw the girl standing before her in her short red skirt, she felt none of the pain and bitterness she had expected. There was only a brief moment of wistfulness…and then, somehow, a quiet satisfaction.

The role, the mantle, might have passed from her. But there was still a defender; still a champion of the planet of fire. And that was enough.

Even as she realised this, the moment changed again. The five Senshi had formed into a rough line in the clearing; and as she watched, the scene suddenly became a kind of impromptu ceremony.

"I am Sailor Jupiter!" the tallest girl cried, in a voice that made the clearing ring. There was pride in her voice, and strength; an echo of thunder, and the rushing of the wind in the trees. "Daughter of the Royal House of Jupiter, and Senshi in the courts of Crystal Tokyo and the Silver Millennium! With the authority of the Planet of Thunder, I will fight in the name of the Queen!"

The others stared at her, wide-eyed, for an instant. Then, by her side, a dark-skinned girl cried out, "I am Sailor Mercury, heir to the power and the authority of the Planet of Water!" Her words were clear and strong; there was the pulse of the sea in her voice, and a quicksilver glitter like ice in her eyes. "Chosen to be a Senshi of the Queen, I will fight in her name, on behalf of the planet Mercury!"

"I am Sailor Uranus," declared the girl next to her, softer, but no less determined. The sky reflected in her cool grey eyes as she said, "With the blessings of the Lady of the Moon, and the strength and the dominion of the planet Uranus, I will fight in the name of the Queen, and at her command!"

There was a slight pause then, and everyone's eyes went to the fourth in line, a tall girl with her hair in a long braid. But she hesitated for only a moment before saying, "I am Sailor Mars. And—" She did break off then, stumbling over her words, and swallowed heavily. "I'll fight," she finished in a low voice. "In the name of the Queen. I'll fight." And in her words, thin and distant but present nonetheless…was there a hint of fire?

So to the last. The fifth Senshi's head was erect, her voice crisp and proud, and the gold tiara on her brow glittered in the sunlight as she declaimed, "I am Sailor Venus: a champion of justice, and guardian of the power and the authority of the Planet of Love. In the name of Venus and the honour of the Queen, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil!"

As she finished speaking, a silence seemed to fill the clearing. Itsuko stood facing the five girls. Some kind of answer was required; an acknowledgement of their oaths, at the very least. But what could she say? Did she even have the right to reply at all?

"I cannot answer you in the name of the Queen," she told them softly. "Much though you all deserve it. I can only say that if she were here, I think she would be proud. And that _I_ think that all of you are worthy to be called Senshi. I'm proud of you. All of you."

She started to turn away—there was a suspicious lump in her throat—then looked back at them. "One more thing," she said. "I don't think any of you would doubt it anyway; but at least I can tell you that the Queen _will_ return. I've seen it, in the Fire and in my dreams. There will be a Sailor Moon to lead you once again." She studied their faces, and added, "I don't know who she'll be. But I don't think you'll have to wait much longer."

- - -

The five Senshi watched as Itsuko turned to speak to Artemis for a moment. "Sailor Moon!" exclaimed Venus. "At last. I wonder what she'll be like?"

"I wonder if she'll think she's a cat?" said Mercury innocently.

Venus gave her an irritated look. "I wonder if she'll think she's a cat-_burglar_?" she shot back.

"Now, now," Mercury purred. "There's no need to be…catty."

The other girl glared at her for a moment longer, then suddenly laughed. She raised one hand, her fingers hooked like claws, and made a tearing gesture. "Meow," she said.

Mercury clutched her heart dramatically. "She got me!" she cried out, windmilling her arms wildly and almost catching Mars in the eye. "Oops. Sorry, Mars-chan. Didn't see you there. Better be careful, though, or the dreaded killer pussy-cat here'll get you."

To her delight, Sailor Mars actually smiled back. "If she does, will she have to walk the plank?" she asked.

"Hmm, very probably, I believe. Ah, but enough of this gay banter. Come, my lovely but slow-witted friends—" Mercury dropped into a sinister accent and draped an arm about Venus and Mars' shoulders. "Let me ply you with thick Turkish coffee and bedazzle your deepest secrets from you with my effortless charm. Tell me, where is the secret enemy base, and how long until the aliens launch their invasion fleet…?"

A short distance away, Jupiter and Uranus stood watching. Sailor Jupiter was grinning. Sailor Uranus was not. "What…is she talking about?" asked Uranus, baffled.

Jupiter shrugged. "You know Dhiti-chan. She's not talking _about_ anything. She's just talking."

"It's not right," Uranus said, shaking her head. "A minute ago she was swearing allegiance to the Queen. Now she's talking about…about crazy things! If she can't take something that important seriously—"

"Umm. Sometimes I wonder, though. She's always performing, one way or another. So maybe she's being silly now _because_ she takes it so seriously…" Jupiter scowled. "No, skip it. I'm not making sense. Anyway—" She shifted uncomfortably, looking for a way to change the subject. Then she brightened. "Talking about swearing allegiance, what was that you were saying before? 'With the blessings of the Lady of the Moon'?" She laughed. "Better be careful there, Suzue-san. You almost sounded like one of the Loonies."

Uranus gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Did I?" she said. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

- - -

"All right," Itsuko told them all. "We'll keep this fairly basic at first. I want you to work in pairs for now: Jupiter with Mercury, and Uranus with Venus. I'll take care of Sailor Mars."

At her side, Artemis spoke up. "We'll leave physical combat training for later. To begin with, I want you to get more experience with your attacks. There are three things I want you to look at to start with: accuracy, speed and strength. Pick a rock or a tree and use it for target practice. Once you get the hang of it, try hitting it while you're on the move. Then try hitting a moving object: one of you throw a target and the other, try to hit it. That will also test your attack speed and reaction time.

"Finally, you need to practise with your attack strength. How hard, or how softly, can you hit a target? Itsuko and I will offer tips where we can. And Jupiter, too; you may have lost access to your higher attacks, but apart from that I expect you remember well enough."

Jupiter gave a wry grin. "Oh, yes."

"All right, then. Any questions? Good. We'll give it a hour or so, and see how you're doing. So—to work, everyone!"

- - -

Uranus watched as the last of her stones bounced away through the grass. "Well," she said, "I suppose there's no question about your accuracy or reaction time."

Venus smirked. "Thanks."

"I'm not sure about strength, though. You can hit targets, but you're not actually doing anything to them. It's hardly an _attack_ at all."

The other girl's face fell. "Um," she said. "But it's, you know, just a chain. It…chains things. What do you expect? I've talked it over with Bendis-chan, and I can knock small objects around with it, but it's not like I can split boulders or anything. If I could just work out how to do the Crescent Beam thing I'd—"

"Have you tried?" said a voice at her side. She looked down and saw Artemis. "Splitting boulders, I mean," he added.

"Err. Not as such. There weren't too many boul—"

"Well, try it now, then!"

Venus shrugged. "Sure. VENUS CHAIN TH—" She saw their expressions and rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right. VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!"

The chain spun forth, hissing and arcing with energy. It struck the rock she'd been aiming for dead-centre and skittered off, throwing sparks in all directions.

"You see?" she complained.

"Lady Aino used her chain as an attack," said Uranus slowly.

"Well, maybe I got the low-power model, then," Venus retorted. "It's like that when I hit a vitrimorph, too. Just a few sparks. On the other hand—" She grinned. "If I can wrap it around a vitrimorph, I can hold it pretty well. Maybe the rest of you guys can finish it off then. And me and Bendis have worked out all sorts of tricks, too—"

"Low-powered, but versatile," muttered Artemis. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"It didn't look all that low-powered to me," Uranus objected. "When she fires it, there's all that light and—"

"That's mostly the power lattice discharging as the chain forms," the cat replied absently. "Still, it's got a fair bit of latent energy bound up there, all right. I suspect an enemy would have to be incredibly powerful to be able to break the chain, once formed."

"Really?" said Venus, delighted. "Cool!"

Artemis winced. "Anyway," he said, "you two are getting side-tracked. Uranus, it's your turn. I've noticed that it seems to take you a few seconds to recover after using your attack. You need to modulate your power, so that you're not draining yourself dry every time you use it. Now, I want you to start by…"

- - -

"Try it again," Itsuko ordered. She watched intently as Sailor Mars began the attack, and at the same time tried to reach out with her mind to _feel_ what the girl was doing. She saw the swirl of energy, sensed the veins of power that spiralled in toward their target. Like ants running across her skin, a chill of recognition down her spine…

The light of the Burning Mandala faded, and she stepped forward to examine the target: a small piece of dead wood. It was barely warm. "Nothing, again," she announced.

The eighth attempt had been the same as the first. Nothing Mars could do seemed to affect the outcome in the slightest. If she worked harder at her attack, the lines of energy in the Mandala glowed brighter—on the third try, she put so much force into it that it became almost too bright to look at, and left her reeling from the strain—but the end result never varied.

Mars flinched away from her words. "I'm sorry—" she began.

Itsuko waved her quiet, shaking her head. "I don't understand it," she said. "I can feel the power, sense it building up…but I can't see where it's going." She looked down at the piece of wood ruefully. "It's certainly not coming out as heat."

For a moment, groping for ideas, she toyed with the possibility that the problem was Iku's transformation: that the girl had less power because she was using Younger Mars' henshin wand, the wand of a Senshi-in-training. Itsuko still had her own wand, of course. But the idea made no sense; the difference between a Younger and an Elder Senshi was in training, ability and authority. The two wands were ceremonially different, but functionally they were identical.

All the same, she wondered if she should pass the elder wand on to Iku. Itsuko could not use it herself any more, and heaven knew it might give the girl some confidence. It was still lying in her desk drawer back at the Olympus, she remembered. It would be a terrible wrench to let it go, but—

"What about the Opal, though?" said Bendis from nearby, interrupting her train of thought. "I told you what she did to that."

"Yes." She pulled her attention back to the subject. "That's going to be harder to test, though. I don't keep spare Opals up my sleeve."

"You could get her to aim for the van," Bendis suggested. Then she blinked. "Wait a minute. Maybe not."

"Maybe not," echoed Itsuko dryly. "Unless you _want_ to walk home. I'll think about it, though. Next time we can try to check it out. But for now…" She frowned, and looked back at Mars. "Suppose we work on some physical training, instead? Trust me, getting a few good combat manoeuvres down can be a big help in a fight."

They might also, she did not say aloud, help the girl to get a little more self-confidence. Indeed, she half-expected her to back away from the suggestion. But Mars only nodded obediently. Itsuko considered for a moment longer, picking some simple moves that she ought to be able to handle, and they began.

The next hour proved an exercise in frustration. Mars was willing enough, and doggedly persistent; she threw herself into the exercise with a determination that Itsuko had to admire. But she was strangely awkward. Not outright clumsy, as Sailor Moon had been so long ago, but stiff and unresponsive. She hesitated before making any move that was even faintly offensive, and when Itsuko aimed any blow at her in return, even one that would obviously miss, she either shied away from it or froze completely.

It did not help that Bendis hovered on the sidelines, making continuous helpful suggestions. Before long, Itsuko could cheerfully have throttled the cat. She began to gain a whole new appreciation for Artemis' attitude toward his great-granddaughter.

At last, her temper wound almost to the breaking point, she slipped. She had reverted to lessons that were as basic as she could think of; she was aiming a simple, direct blow at Mars' shoulder, moving exaggeratedly slowly, her body language plain and clear. All Mars had to do was take hold of her wrist and pull, stepping aside as she did so, and Itsuko's own momentum would leave her sprawling on the ground.

A ten-year-old could have done it. Iku had failed four times already.

Perhaps it was her frustration that made it happen. Perhaps it was her irritation at Bendis. But as she moved in, her arm swinging forward—as Mars reached out to seize it, for a wonder looking as if she were about to get it right—Itsuko's foot skidded in the grass. Just a few centimetres, but it was enough to throw her off balance. Her fist aimed itself, much faster than she had intended, directly at Mars' face.

Later, she was not sure if she had imagined it. But in the last instant before the impact, she half-thought she saw Mars stand frozen, a curious look of resignation on her face, and close her eyes and wait patiently for the blow to land.

Then the sound of fist meeting flesh was in her ears, and Mars was lying on the ground in front of her. The girl never made a sound. She simply lay there, cradling her cheek.

Later, Itsuko would think about what she might have seen. Later, she would realise that the blow could not even have been very painful, not to a Senshi. For now, shame and remorse were what mattered. "Are you all right?" she cried out, kneeling at the girl's side and reaching out to probe gently at the injury. Mars jerked away from her hand, and she withdrew it quickly.

"I'm fine," Mars said in a somewhat muffled voice. Then, absurdly, she added, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry!" exclaimed Itsuko. "What for? It was my fault! My foot slipped and I—" She broke off and counted silently to ten. "I'm the one who's sorry, Iku-chan," she said quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, it looked as if you were about to get it right."

Sailor Mars was silent.

"We can stop now, if you like. I won't be upset. Or…if you're willing, we can carry on."

Itsuko waited. The silence seemed to stretch unbearably. At last Mars looked up and said, almost inaudibly, "All right. I'll go on."

They tried the exercise again; and rather to Itsuko's surprise the girl did it perfectly the first time. She demonstrated another move, slightly more complex, and Mars got that one right the first time, too. The rest of their session was a roaring success.

It bothered Itsuko a little, though, that something in the Senshi's face had changed. Before, she had been an open book, her nervousness and lack of confidence plain. Now that she was getting it right, Itsuko would have expected her to look satisfied, at least. Instead, there was nothing at all. Her expression was blank, closed. Whatever Kodama Iku was feeling, she was keeping it firmly to herself.

- - -

At around mid-afternoon, Artemis called a break. The five Senshi collapsed on the grass, breathing hard and talking about what they'd been doing. Itsuko went to the van and brought out more drinks.

Mercury lay back contentedly. She'd never quite realised how stern a taskmaster Hayashi could be. The attack practice had been fun at first, but after two solid hours it became pretty hard work. Being able to relax at last was sheer bliss.

"So how are you finding it?" said a voice at her side. She turned her head lazily and saw Artemis.

"Not quite what I was expecting," she admitted. "…You know, it's weird how fast you can get used to seeing a cat talk."

"I wouldn't know," he answered dryly. "What were you expecting, then? An automated assault course? A secret underground training room where you fight against robotic enemies?"

"Hey, that'd be cool." Mercury lifted herself up onto her elbows. "Did the old Senshi really have something like that?"

Artemis chuckled. "No, not really. In the Silver Millennium, each Senshi taught her successor everything she knew. That included combat training, of course. A Senshi in training was expected to invent a new application of her power before she could take over from her Elder." He blinked at her slowly. "The Outer Senshi used to do survival training on Io, now I think of it. I suppose that's almost like an assault course in itself."

"Yeah? Hayashi mentioned something about Io, once. Is it really that bad there?"

Artemis shrugged. "That's what they say. I never went there myself."

"Rats." Mercury saw something moving out of the corner of her eye and hitched herself up onto one elbow to look. "What is that girl doing now?"

"Who?" Artemis looked around. "Ah. I've given up trying to understand those two, I'm afraid."

"Oh, now you're just being grouchy. She's—what _is_ she doing?"

Some distance away, Bendis and Sailor Venus were sitting in the middle of the clearing. They appeared to be arguing about something; but even as Mercury watched, Venus rolled onto all fours, drew herself up into a half-crouch, and took a curious little hop forward, catching herself on her hands.

They argued some more—Venus seemed to be objecting to something—and then, to Mercury's lasting delight, the girl crouched again and suddenly exploded across the clearing in an eerie, half-feline motion: landing on her hands and then launching herself again with a quick thrust of her legs. She ended with a somersault that left her on her feet, one fist outstretched to strike an unseen opponent.

"Cat training," Mercury said. Her grin was so wide that it almost hurt. "She's doing cat training."

Artemis muttered something incomprehensible.

"Oh, come on. Don't you think it's adorable? At least you could go over there and show them the right way to do it."

"I _don't_ think so."

"Spoilsport." Mercury got to her feet. "I can't let this go, though. I just can't."

"You're going to stop her?" Artemis sounded almost hopeful.

"Don't be silly." Mercury gave him a beatific smile. "I'm going to embarrass her."

She started toward the two, noticing as she went that everyone else seemed to be watching as well. Perfect, she thought; these things always went better with an audience.

As she approached, Venus dropped to her knees in the grass. She and Bendis were arguing again. "—Told you, I don't want to do the cat thing any more," Venus was saying.

"Yes, but I didn't think you actually _meant_ it," Bendis told her. "After all, why on earth not? Who wouldn't want to be a cat?"

"Just about everybody! Have you seen the way everyone else looks at me when I do that stuff?"

"They're jealous. Come on, none of the others can do even half of what I've taught you! And you have to admit, a lot of those moves have been useful. It would be a total waste to let it all go now—"

"Yeah, well, maybe if I'm not trying to act like a cat all the time I'll be able to—"

"Bendis is right," Mercury interrupted. "It would be a terrible waste for you to stop now."

The two looked around, startled. Then Bendis said, in a gratified tone, "I'm glad _somebody_ can see the—"

"After all," Mercury went on, suddenly unable to keep the smirk off her face, "we wouldn't want to lose the team mascot, would we?"

There was a sudden silence. "Mascot?" repeated Venus.

"Of course! And such an adorable little kitty, too." Mercury laid a hand on Venus' head and began to stroke her hair. "See? Isn't she just the sweetest thing? Who's a perfect precious little kitty, hmm? Who's a sweet widdle adorable pussykins? Ohhh, she's so cute! C'mon, cat-girl, you know you like it. Purr for me!"

Venus stared at her, wide-eyed, and for a moment Mercury thought she had overplayed the joke. Then, suddenly, Venus grinned. She arched her back, leaning into the pressure of Mercury's stroking. "Purr," she said in a sultry voice.

"There, you see? I knew it. Ooh, you are a sweetie-pie. Do you want me to scratch your ears? Do you? Awww, that's so adorable. I've gotta find you a ball of string, that'd be just too perfecYAAAHHH!"

Suddenly, a hand seized Mercury's ankle in a vice-like grip. She looked down in shock, and had a bare instant to see the grin on Venus' face. Then the other girl surged upward, lifting her in one mighty heave…and Sailor Mercury found out what it was like to fly.

A second later, she found out what it was like to splash down face-first in the stream.

She struggled back to the surface, spitting out a mouthful of water, mud and some unidentifiable weed, and saw a whole row of Senshi grinning back at her. "O-o-o-kay…" she mumbled.

"Now that," said Bendis in a tone of great satisfaction, "she had coming."

- - -

"She just doesn't know when to stop, does she?" Itsuko was not laughing. Not quite.

"Dhiti-chan? Never," said Jupiter fondly. "She doesn't even know when not to start. You just have to learn when to thump her, and when to ignore her." After a moment she added, "You're off to a good beginning there, actually."

"Oh?"

Jupiter grinned. "When she saluted you, and you paid no attention. At school, it took some of her teachers _weeks_ to learn that."

Itsuko smiled back. "I had a lot of practice, learning to cope with a certain odango-haired princess."

- - -

"So," said Mercury. "Tell me about this cat-training thing."

"Yeah, right," said Venus.

"Oh, come on. I teased you a little and you got me back, and I promise I won't mortally humiliate you again for at least a day, okay? But I am interested in all this training you've been doing. Honestly."

"Oh-ho," said Bendis. "I knew the rest of you would see the light eventually."

Mercury grinned. "I do seem to remember a certain cat telling me she didn't think much of Artemis' methods, once."

Bendis rolled her eyes. "Well, look at all this stuff he's got you doing today! It's so…basic. What you really need is a little more creativity."

Schooling her expression into one of careful attention, Mercury said, "Creativity? What did you have in mind?"

Venus shook her head. "You have no idea what you're letting yourself in for," she told Mercury sadly. All the same, there was an unmistakable glint of interest in her eye.

"Well," said Bendis, ignoring her, "I did have one or two thoughts about that attack of yours. Ice Spear, right? Tell me, is there any kind of recoil when you throw one?"

"Recoil?"

"Well, you're shooting a lot of ice off in one direction. Is there a recoil in the other direction? Does it push you back?"

"I…hadn't noticed. Why?" Mercury blinked. This _was_ interesting.

"Oh, I just thought…say you're making a long jump. If you fire your attack downward, would that give you any extra lift? Could you get more distance out of it that way?"

Mercury stared at Venus. Venus stared back.

"Let's find out," Mercury said.

She stood up and glanced around. Nobody seemed to be paying any particular attention. With a quick nod, she took a deep breath, ran forward, and jumped as high and as hard as she could. In mid-air, she yelled out, "ICE SPEAR!" and saw the burst of ice lance downward.

Moments later, she hit a tree, face-first.

When the ringing in her ears subsided, she picked herself up and walked back toward Bendis and Venus, brushing off pieces of bark and ignoring their laughter with as much dignity as she could muster.

"No recoil," she reported coldly. "Definitely no recoil."

"First rule of cat-training," giggled Venus. "Look before you leap."

"No, but seriously," Bendis said. "It _could_ have worked."

"That's a great comfort, thanks," said Mercury, rubbing her nose. "I'll try to remember it always. 'It could have worked.'" She blinked suddenly. "I wonder what would happen if I fired upward, instead?"

"Um. Better step out of the way afterward, before it comes down again."

"Not straight up, dummy!" Mercury turned and checked that there was nobody else in the way. Then she launched her Ice Spear again, firing it upward at a sharp angle.

It travelled along a steep parabola, rising perhaps thirty metres before falling to strike the ground not far away. "Hmm," she said. "Not too bad. I think I could hit something on the other side of a wall with that."

"If you can get the aim right," said Bendis dubiously.

"No, wait a minute," Venus said. She got up and went to stand a little behind Mercury. "Do that again, but aim a bit lower," she ordered. "I want to try something."

Mercury shrugged, and fired her Spear again. As she did so, she heard Venus shout out her own attack.

The Ice Spear was a few metres off the ground when Venus' Love-Me Chain struck it. The ice exploded with a sharp _crack_. A hailstorm of splinters and slivers hissed down into the meadow in front of them.

Mercury and Venus stepped forward gingerly to look. The shards had come down hard and fast, and the turf had been torn to shreds over a wide area in front of them.

Venus glanced over at Mercury. "Could be worth remembering that one," she said casually.

Mercury gave a slow nod. "Could be," she echoed.

"You see?" said Bendis. "A little creativity, that's all you need. I told you my training was better."

- - -

"You'd better end the break soon," said Artemis. "Otherwise they're going to kill themselves relaxing."

"That could be worth watching…no, maybe not." Jupiter rubbed her legs with a mock-groan. "More exercise. Hooray."

"Tired already?" Itsuko smiled. "And you a senshi."

"Yeah, well, you haven't just been on the move for two hours!" Jupiter retorted. Then she blinked. "Yes, you have, and you're not tired. Damn, I didn't think I was that out of condition."

"Well, I am teaching classes at a gymnasium," Itsuko purred.

"Okay, that does it. I'm going to have to start martial arts training again."

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Why did you ever stop?"

"I never did it at all, this life. Never even thought of it. I wonder why not?" Jupiter's face grew pensive.

Itsuko remained silent. Jupiter looked at her, and read in her face the answer that her friend did not want to say. She looked away quickly, and said, "Well, anyway. Starting tomorrow—"

"Just be careful," Artemis warned her. "You may remember the moves, but if you try them without some serious training you're likely to pull muscles."

"Oh, joy." Jupiter rubbed her legs once more and grimaced. "This is going to be so much fun."

- - -

Itsuko gave them all a couple more minutes, and then clapped her hands for attention. "All right," she said when the five Senshi had gathered. "The afternoon's getting on, so let's not waste time. Now that you've got a better idea what your powers can do, Artemis and I thought we'd give you a chance to practise your skills with a little…contest."

"Oh, great," Mercury muttered.

"We'll split you into two teams," Artemis said. "This arm of the forest is enclosed by a bend in the stream. We'll use that as the contest boundary. One team will go into the forest; we'll give you a five-minute start. Then the others will go after you. The last team standing wins."

"This is an exercise in strategy and tactics," Itsuko told them. "But it's also an exercise in judgement and the careful use of your powers. Be careful, please; I don't want anyone getting hurt. Low-power attacks only; by preference, don't use your attacks at all. Experience with hand-to-hand combat will do you good. Remember, a few bumps are one thing; serious injuries are another."

"Everyone clear?" said Artemis. "Stay in the forest, but don't cross the stream. Low-power attacks or hand-to-hand only. Out-thinking the other team should be just as important as out-fighting them."

"Any questions?" Itsuko asked. There were none. "All right. Let's get you split into teams—"

"You and me, Hayashi?" said Mercury.

"No," said Artemis before Jupiter could reply. "You two know each other too well. Let's make it…Jupiter and Uranus on one team, and Mercury, Venus and Mars on the other. An astronomical split," he finished, sounding pleased with himself.

Jupiter shrugged. "Who goes first?" she asked.

Itsuko grinned, and pulled out a coin. "Heads or tails?" she said.

"Tails."

"Heads," Itsuko announced a moment later. "Mercury, Venus, Mars…you have five minutes. Go!"

"Wait a minute," protested Mercury. "You said strategy and tactics. Don't we get any time to work out what we're going to do?"

"_Combat_ strategy," said Itsuko, still grinning. "Think on your feet. You now have four minutes and forty-five seconds left."

Venus swore. "Come on, you two, let's go!" she said. The three of them disappeared into the trees.

"Isn't this a bit unfair?" asked Uranus diffidently.

"Not at all," said Artemis. "How often do you expect to have time to plan out your strategy when an enemy's attacking? You need to be able to think fast and plan on your feet."

"The best way to get that skill is experience," added Itsuko. "I might point out, for example, that right now you have time to be planning your _own_ strategy. Unless you'd rather stand around talking—"

"Excuse me." Jupiter grabbed Uranus and hauled her away. "Let's plan," she hissed.

Itsuko and Artemis waited until the two were out of earshot before they laughed.

- - -

"Right," said Venus rapidly as they ran through the trees. "This is going to be tough. Obaasan will be hard to beat; she's pretty strong and experienced. Uranus is pretty strong, too, and she's smart. We need to take them by surprise somehow."

"Okay," Mercury said, making silent note of the 'smart' comment. "Hide in the bushes and jump them as they come past, then? Or we could use your chain to trip them."

"The chain'll only work if they're running, and they're bound to be ready for a sneak attack from the bushes. I think we should hit them from above."

Mercury glanced up. "Won't they be expecting that, too?"

"Probably, but we don't have a lot of time to get fancier. Anyway, I was reading this psychology book the other day…people tend not to look up all that much. If their attention is split between the bushes around them and the trees above, they'll subconsciously pay less attention to above."

"Interesting choice of reading matter, there."

"Oh, well, I've been trying to study things I…you know. Might need to know as a Senshi. Most of it's pretty dull. Anyway—" She grinned suddenly, and there was a gleam in her eye. "Leaping down from above has got to be cooler, don't you think?"

Mercury hesitated. Then she grinned back. "You have a point there. But I have an idea that might help—"

- - -

"What do you think they'll do?" asked Uranus.

"Well, one thing Dhiti-chan isn't, is subtle. If it was just her, I'd expect something very obvious…but she can be hard to stop once she gets going, and she's very fast. I'm not sure about Venus, though. She always seems so unpredictable…"

"Yes." Uranus remembered the sight of Venus standing on top of a crane in the warehouse yard. "She likes to take people by surprise, I think. Maybe from above."

Jupiter thought about it. "Yeah, that does sound like her, doesn't it? I'm not sure about Dhiti-chan, though. She's not a great jumper…You know, I think we should be on the alert for a split attack. One from above, and one from the side."

"Well, yes. That would be the sensible thing, wouldn't it?" Uranus said, as if puzzled that Jupiter had taken so long to work it out.

Jupiter blinked at her, then said, "That just leaves Mars. I don't know if we can expect much from her, though. She, umm, doesn't seem to have much control over her powers—"

"Itsuko was teaching her hand-to-hand. She may be more threat than you might think."

Jupiter snorted. "Right. I've forgotten ten times more about fighting than she could pick up in a couple of hours. And that's just in _this_ lifetime."

"Oh?" Uranus raised her eyebrows politely. "The history books say you had a reputation as a martial artist."

"Oh, boy. Don't mention those history books—"

"Five minutes," Itsuko called from behind them. "Your turn to move in, ladies."

"Right." Jupiter gave Uranus a quick, confident grin. "Don't worry about it, Suzue-san. We'll paste 'em."

She saw Uranus nod. Then the two turned and stepped in among the trees.

Silence enveloped them. There were no birds singing; even the insects seemed to have fallen mute. Jupiter felt a prickling sensation down her spine: excitement, and fear. She was in enemy territory. This was just an exercise…but all the same, it occurred to her that her and Uranus' uniforms would be very visible through the trees.

She tried to expand her senses, listening in all directions around her, straining to detect the slightest movement. She did her best to walk quietly, but every breaking twig or crackling leaf beneath her feet seemed ten times louder than normal. Uranus, not far behind her, sounded as if she were driving a bulldozer through the bushes.

No birds singing. But had they stopped as she and Uranus had entered the forest, or had they already been silent? She could hear her own breathing; it almost seemed to drown out the distant trickling of the stream.

_This is ridiculous!_ she told herself. _It's just a game!_ It was a comforting thought; but then she remembered that it was a live-fire game. She told herself that Itsuko and Artemis were out of their minds. A pity that she hadn't thought to tell them that before.

They moved on. The constant rustling and snapping of twigs underfoot began to get to her; she had been able to do much better once, she thought, irritated. The idea made her pause. _Well, why not?_

There was a rift in her mind, a gap that Artemis had opened in her memory. It had narrowed since then; but still, her last life lay just beyond the hole, available in perfect detail whenever she cared to look. Her last life, and the one before that, and maybe even others, further back yet, if she dared to look. Three lives were more than enough to remember, though; enough to know that she had roamed the giant forests of Callisto as a child, millennia before.

After a minute or two of concentration, she recalled the knack. It was surprisingly hard to force her body to move in the way she recalled. Her arms and legs felt stiff, heavy; her muscles complained at being forced in unfamiliar ways. She remembered what Artemis had been saying about using skills without the training to do them. Maybe the cat had had a point.

After another minute or two, she found that she was moving more easily. Not silently, but more quietly, at least. The sound of Uranus behind her seemed to redouble, and she wondered for a moment if she had seemed as noisy to the other girl.

Somewhere far away, a bird called. She jumped, then forced herself to relax and carry on. Not far ahead, between the trees, she caught a glimpse of the stream. Thick bushes lined the water. She turned to signal to Uranus—and in that moment, she saw a flash of white from the corner of her eye.

There! High in a tree, almost hidden by thick foliage. And a glimpse of orange; it was Venus, sure enough.

She stepped back into cover and waited. When Uranus joined her, she pointed to where she had seen Venus and made a 'V' sign. The other girl nodded, and Jupiter whispered, "Circle around. Cover me from the side. I'll take care of Venus."

Uranus nodded again and slipped away. Jupiter waited for a minute to give her time to get into position, then started forward again.

She walked past the tree slowly, holding her breath, waiting for the moment. Then it came: a sudden stirring in the branches above and behind her, and a voice shouting, "VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!"

At the first sound, she was already moving. A quick dodge to the left, and then she whirled and shouted her own attack: "SUPREME THUNDER!" At the last moment she remembered to keep it low-powered.

A startled yelp came from above. The Love-Me Chain went wide. Then—oh, satisfying sight!—Sailor Venus fell headlong from the tree, clutching her leg. She twisted in mid-air, trying to land on her feet, but did not quite make it, and hit the ground in a flurry of flying limbs.

Jupiter hurried up to her, the exercise momentarily forgotten. "Are you all right—" she began.

Another voice shouted from above. A huge bolt of ice struck the ground, bare centimetres from where she was standing.

When she could breathe again, she looked up into the tree. Sailor Mercury was grinning down at her. She must have been standing in the tree, hidden behind Venus, all along, Jupiter realised faintly.

"Bang," said Mercury. "You're dead, Hayashi."

And so she was, she realised, chagrined. Venus had let herself be seen deliberately, as bait to draw her in. Taken out like an amateur! She shook her head. "You got me," she admitted.

(But where was Uranus? She must have backed off when she saw Jupiter go down so easily. Not a bad idea…she hoped. And what had happened to Sailor Mars?)

"Three against one, now," Venus said to Mercury, sounding very pleased with herself. "That should be easy."

Excuse me? "Two against one," Jupiter told her firmly. "I took you out too, remember."

"Hey, I'm still okay!"

"Oh? Try standing up, then tell me that."

Venus got up, an indignant look on her face. Then she squawked, and had to grab the tree to stay on her feet. "What did you do? I can't feel my leg!" she complained.

"Low-power shot," Jupiter said with a satisfied nod. "Give it half an hour and you'll be fine."

Mercury snickered. "Looks like a mutual knock-out." She clambered down out of the tree, a little awkwardly. "C'mon, let's get you two corpses back to the clearing. Then I can come back and beat Sailor Uranus."

"Right." Privately, Jupiter hoped that Uranus would give her a surprise of her own, but she did not say so.

They made their way out of the bushes, Jupiter and Mercury helping Venus walk. As they emerged, Itsuko raised an eyebrow, checked her watch, and made a note on a sheet of paper. For some reason, Jupiter found that particularly annoying. Her expression must have shown it; she saw Itsuko's lips twitch.

She and Venus sat down in the grass. Venus was still rubbing her numb leg. "Just leave it," Jupiter advised her. "When you get a king-sized case of pins and needles, you'll know it's almost better."

"Gee, thanks." Venus made a face at her.

"Well, wish me luck," Mercury told them. "I'll be back with Uranus in just a few minutes." She strode jauntily back into the bush.

Venus and Jupiter exchanged glances. They rolled their eyes as one.

Twelve seconds later, Sailor Mercury marched back out of the bush. Her hands were in the air. Sailor Uranus was right behind her, her finger pointed at Mercury's head in a 'gun' shape.

"This isn't fair!" Mercury protested as they emerged.

"Why not?" asked Uranus reasonably. "You made so much noise, it would have been hard to have missed you. All I had to do was wait for you to come back."

"But—but—"

"Yes?"

"Nuts." Mercury lowered her hands gracelessly and flopped to a seat beside Jupiter and Venus. In the background, Itsuko made another note.

- - -

As Sailor Uranus walked back into the trees, she had every expectation of finding Mars within a few minutes. After all, the other girl had been pretty hopeless at the warehouse on Wednesday, and no better during the vitrimorph attack the following day. The attack that had brought down the Opal seemed little use against people. Uranus rather thought that as soon as she found her, the game would be over.

The trouble was finding Mars. It was proving to be absurdly difficult. The exercise area that Itsuko had indicated was not that large—no more than a hundred metres wide at its largest—and she was sure that she had covered it thoroughly within ten minutes. It should have been easy; a girl in a red-and-white sailor costume ought to have stood out like a sore thumb.

It wasn't working out that way. The bushes along the edge of the clearing and down the stream bank were not all that thick, but she had covered them carefully all the same. She had looked up into the branches of every tree that seemed climbable. After half an hour of searching, she had run out of places to look; and there was no sign of Sailor Mars anywhere.

Well, she must simply have missed something. Patiently, Uranus turned and started to search all over again. In her mind's eye, she divided the area into small squares, and began to check each one off as she finished it. She could not help thinking, a little resentfully, that this would have been far easier if Itsuko had picked a more reasonable training spot.

Why bring them all out into the wilderness like this? Itagaki Suzue did not really approve of the countryside. It seemed pointless, and rather wasteful. If people wanted grass and trees, there were plenty of parks and gardens in Third Tokyo. She supposed that a certain amount of land was needed for growing crops, but apart from that, why not just build more cities?

Shaking her head, she moved on, patiently looking up into another tree and checking that there was nowhere among the branches where a Senshi could have stood unseen. Something brushed her leg and she looked down hastily, her heart pounding. A stalk of grass. She made a moue of annoyance. That was at least the fifth time. She was beginning to really detest these woods.

Nearly half-way through her second sweep, and still no sign of Mars. How could the girl be hiding so well?

She reached the stream, patiently checked in the bushes, then started back again. It occurred to her that Mars was actually rather good at going unnoticed. She always seemed to hang back, not taking part unless she had to, not even speaking unless someone spoke to her first. She might be rather good at hiding, too.

Well, no matter. She was still a Senshi. She was still dressed in white and brilliant red. And Sailor Uranus was still going to find her.

- - -

"Well, the sneak attack was Venus' idea," Mercury replied. "But it was my idea for both of us to do it, so I could take you out while Venus kept you busy. Worked pretty good, too, huh?"

"I suppose," said Jupiter grudgingly. "What happened to Mars, anyway? I never saw her at all."

"I'm not sure, actually," said Mercury. She was lying spread-eagled in the grass, looking totally relaxed. "We headed into the woods, found a good tree…"

"And when we looked around, she was gone," Venus finished. "She's pretty good at that. At the warehouse the other day, I couldn't see her at all." She rubbed at her leg as she spoke. "Hey, I think the feeling's coming back."

"Lucky old you," Mercury answered lazily. "Just in time for the next exercise."

"Oh, thanks."

Mercury smirked at her. "At least this time, maybe you won't be taken out with a single shot."

"Oh?" Venus eyed her for a moment. "And maybe this time you won't need helping up a tree, either."

Mercury sat bolt-upright, a glint in her dark eyes. "And maybe," she said carefully, "we'll be on different teams next time. Just so we can, y'know, see what's what. And who's who."

Venus gave her a long, thoughtful look in return. "Wouldn't that be interesting?" she said.

"Are you sure you two don't want me to get you boxing gloves right now?" asked Jupiter, half-amused.

"What?" Mercury looked around with a start. "Oh! Don't be silly, Hayashi. I quit the boxing club ages ago, you know that."

"At the request of all the other members, wasn't it?"

"That…is a base libel, Hayashi—"

"You were in the _boxing_ club?" asked Venus. The tension was gone from her body, and her grin looked real now, Jupiter noticed with relief.

"Well…not for very long. I was the only girl, and it was really hard to get any of the guys to fight me."

"She tended to lose her temper and hit below the belt when any of them touched her," added Jupiter helpfully.

"That is not true! Only once!"

"Three times, Dhiti-chan. Three."

"That's just a rumour Mizumoto spread! He was mad because I wouldn't go out with him—"

"They were sparring," Jupiter told Venus in a stage-aside. "He gave her a black eye, then asked her out with the next breath."

"Wow," said Venus. "Real romantic guy, huh?"

"I think he meant it as an apology."

Mercury sniffed. "That's what he said afterward, sure. Anyway, after that I quit, and tried to join the sumo club instead. They were even more unreasonable about the whole idea—"

"Sumo club?" said Jupiter. "I never heard about that."

"Don't you have the wrong, umm, build for that?" added Venus.

"Hey, I could have bulked up if they'd let me in!"

"Dhiti-chan, you couldn't bulk up if you went on a pure chocolate diet."

"Mm, chocolate. What an endearing idea, Hayashi."

"So what did you try after sumo?" prompted Venus, leaning back on one elbow.

"Oh, that was just last week. I haven't had a chance to try anything else yet. I was thinking about ikebana."

Venus choked. "Flower-arranging?" she said, laughing. "You want to go from sumo to flower-arranging?"

Mercury shrugged. "Well, I haven't tried it before. It might be interesting, who knows? Anyway, I've had enough of martial arts for a while. Fencing was fun, but most of the rest were kind of dull."

"Fun! You know, Hishida-sensei was really upset when you left the fencing team," Jupiter told her seriously. "You were one of the best in your grade, and the competition with Hibari School is coming up in another two weeks."

"Yeah, but…" Mercury sighed. "It was getting old, Hayashi. I'd been doing it for—what? Nearly a year and a half. That's forever! I was suffocating. Anyway, I needed the time to practise my oil-painting…"

Venus was laughing again. "Is there anything you haven't tried?" she asked.

Mercury grinned back; but there was a wry, half-rueful look on her face. "Far too much, Sailor Venus. Far too much. There's never enough time in the day…"

"Actually, speaking of time—" Jupiter glanced at her communicator-watch. "It's been over an hour. Whatever's keeping Uranus and Mars?"

"What? Wow, it has, too." Venus hopped to her feet, waving to Itsuko. (Her leg, Jupiter noticed, no longer seemed to trouble her at all.) "Hey, Itsuko-san!" she called. "How much longer are you going to let them go?"

Itsuko was standing over at the other side of the clearing, talking to Artemis and Bendis. At Venus' shout, she looked up, then nodded and walked slowly over to join them. "We've just been talking about that," she admitted. "I never expected anything like this. What do you think, Sailor Jupiter?"

"Me?" Jupiter was taken aback for a moment. Then she looked pleased. "Well…I think you may as well call it off. If Uranus hasn't found Mars yet, we could be waiting forever."

Itsuko nodded. "That's what I was thinking. Though—" she smiled for a moment—"I don't think that Sailor Uranus is going to be too happy about it."

- - -

Two hundred metres away, Sailor Uranus was standing in the midst of the trees, looking around and trying to keep from swearing at the top of her voice. She had not felt so frustrated in years. She had searched everywhere—everywhere—three times over, and there was simply no sign of Sailor Mars. She was beginning to think that the girl must have crossed the stream and left the contest boundary; and if that turned out to be true, Uranus was going to grab her skinny throat and—

Itsuko's call came as quite a relief. Uranus looked around and saw the woman standing at the edge of the woods, beckoning.

"Come on back," Itsuko ordered. "We're calling the exercise off."

Uranus gave a resigned wave to show her understanding. She was glad to hear the command; but at the same time, the words made her feel worse than ever. One way or another, they meant that she had failed.

"Sailor Mars!" Itsuko added, beginning to make her way into the bush. "Can you hear me? Uranus, you haven't seen her at all?"

"No!" Uranus replied angrily. "She just vanished somewhere. I think she might have—"

There was a rustling sound behind her. Uranus froze. Then, reluctantly, she turned around.

A girl was crawling gingerly out from under a bush that Uranus was certain she had checked several times. She was brushing a heap of piled-up leaves and bark chips off her legs. Against her skin—which was already rather dark, Uranus realised dismally—they made excellent camouflage. All the same, the girl would have stood out boldly, and Uranus would have spotted her in a moment, if it hadn't been for one thing.

She wasn't Sailor Mars.

"You detransformed," Uranus whispered. Kodama Iku looked up quickly, an uncertain look on her face. Uranus noticed that she was wearing dull-coloured, rather drab clothing, fairly old and well-worn. It, too, blended into the background rather well. "You…you cheated!"

Iku shrank away from the anger in her voice. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Uranus took a step toward her, fists clenched—and froze as a hand touched her shoulder.

"Cheated?" said Itsuko softly. "How is that, Sailor Uranus?"

"What?" Uranus looked around indignantly. "She detransformed! She isn't Sailor Mars any more! She—she—"

"And how is that cheating?" asked Itsuko.

Uranus stared at her, speechless.

"Rather a clever idea, actually," Itsuko went on musingly. "I wonder why I never thought of it myself? I can think of half a dozen situations when it would have helped, back in the old days. The surprise factor alone would have made it worthwhile…" She waved Iku over as she spoke. The girl approached cautiously, keeping a wary eye on her fellow Senshi's face.

"Maybe," Uranus said grudgingly. "But…"

She wanted to say, "It isn't fair!" A glance at Itsuko's face, half-smiling, showed her exactly how far that would get her. Iku had simply out-thought her, she realised dismally.

"We were going to call the exercise a draw," Itsuko went on. "After all, the winner was supposed to be 'the last team standing,' wasn't it? But I don't know…at the rate you were going, you might never have found Iku at all. Maybe we should declare her the winner."

Both girls' eyes widened. "But—!" Uranus burst out.

Itsuko laughed, and waved her silent. "Well, maybe not. After all, neither of you actually beat the other, did you? I think we'll call it a draw after all." She sighed, still chuckling. "Goodness knows, not much else today has gone to plan."

"Yes, Itsuko-san," said Uranus in a subdued voice. Iku echoed her words.

"Now come on, let's get back to the others. It's getting late, and we need to be heading back to town before too much longer."

As they walked back to the clearing, Itsuko pretended not to hear Uranus' sigh of relief.

- - -

Venus and Mercury broke into applause when Itsuko led the two girls out of the trees. They cheered louder when they heard how Iku had eluded Sailor Uranus. Uranus herself kept a tight-lipped silence. Iku looked as if she wanted to hide again.

Jupiter was less sanguine about the moral victory that the others seemed to think Iku had won; but she did not say so aloud. She did wonder what Itsuko was going to say about the exercise in private, after they got home.

Behind her, Uranus said, "They're right. I lost the match."

She turned, and saw not Uranus, but Suzue. "It was a draw," she corrected.

Suzue shook her head. "No. Suppose it was real, and we'd been hunting an enemy? I couldn't find her, which means she got away with the heart crystals, or star seeds, or whatever."

Jupiter thought about it, shrugged, and changed back to Miyo. "This enemy isn't after heart crystals."

"Still. She out-thought me."

"So you'll get her next time, then." A sudden thought made Miyo grin. "Anyway, why worry? You don't have to be smart. That's Sailor Mercury's job."

As one, they turned to look at Dhiti. Then Suzue gave one of her slow, rare smiles. "That's not exactly a comfort."

Miyo smiled back. "I know."

- - -

"So what do you think?" said Artemis to the woman standing at his side.

"They've got a lot of work to do," Itsuko replied with a grimace.

"Oh? I thought they were rather promising, actually."

She sighed. "Yes. They are."

He looked up, read her expression, and did not press the point. "Suppose we give them a few more minutes to unwind, then start back home?" he suggested instead. "You just drive. I'll handle analysing and debriefing them as we go."

Itsuko nodded. "Thanks." He started to walk off, but stopped as she said, "Artemis? They are promising. Really. I…I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

The cat nodded. "Sure," he said.

- - -

"Did you see the look on Uranus' face?" Dhiti crowed for the third time. "Oh, that was good! You really saved our bacon there, Iku-chan."

She, Beth and Iku had detransformed and were sitting by the drinks cooler. Beth and Dhiti were leaning back, nursing cups of orange juice. Iku had a cup of her own, but she was paying little attention to it. Instead, she was looking vastly uncomfortable at the attention the others were paying to her.

"Yeah," Beth agreed. "That was a good move. Suzue's pretty smart, and we might have had trouble surprising her. But—"

"What, are you saying I'm not smart too?" challenged Dhiti, sitting up sharply.

"Umm…" began Beth. "You did kind of walk into her trap."

"I—well, yes." Dhiti huffed in irritation. "But you'd have done the same thing if it's been you!"

"Er. Actually, I think Sailor Venus would, um, have her own way of doing things."

"Huh? You know, sometimes you talk like you and Sailor Venus are different people."

Beth looked surprised. "I do? I hadn't realised—" She broke off, looking at something over Dhiti's shoulder. "Whoops," she said, sounding relieved. "Bendis wants me. Talk to you later…"

She rolled to her feet in one smooth, easy motion and jogged off toward the cat. Dhiti watched her go, a faint frown on her face. Something about the way the girl had gotten up bothered her. Then, with a shrug, she put it from her mind. This was too peaceful a moment to spoil.

Instead she leaned back on one elbow and said to Iku, "So, what do you think of it so far?"

Iku stared at her. "Of what?" she asked at last.

Dhiti shrugged. "Being a Senshi. Training this afternoon. Whatever. I just wondered. I mean, none of us got a choice about this, did we?"

"I don't know. I…" Iku was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, "It doesn't matter."

"Oh?"

"No. I…" Iku bit her lip. She looked as if, somewhere inside, she were wrestling with herself. "Bendis _did_ ask me," she said in a low voice. "She asked if I wanted to stay knitting for the rest of—No. It doesn't matter." She fell silent, then added, "I'm sorry."

"You say that too much," Dhiti said absently. Then she said, "Knitting? You knit? I've never tried that. Is it fun?"

There was no answer. She looked at Iku, saw the confusion on the girl's face, and burst out, "What is wrong with you, anyway?"

Iku opened her mouth to reply, closed it again, and then said, "Sharma-san, I—"

"Dhiti."

"Dhiti-san. I—" She stumbled to a stop. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, "Why do you keep talking to me?"

Dhiti eyed her for a moment. Then she said seriously, "Don't you like it?"

"No—yes—I—" Again, Iku faltered to a halt. She could not meet Dhiti's eye; she stared fixedly at the ground. "I don't know," she said miserably after a few seconds. "Usually nobody else talks to me. Why do you?"

Dhiti did not answer at once. At last she said, "You know, you've got four new friends now. You're allowed to talk to your friends. It's a good thing; trust me on this." Iku did not answer, and she added slyly, "Besides, there's something about your smooth and easy-going manner that I just can't resist."

"Beth says she's my friend," Iku said slowly, completely ignoring this last. "But she hardly ever talked to me, before."

"Yes, but there's something you've got to understand," Dhiti told her solemnly. "Beth is a space alien from the planet Yorxtl. Hadn't you noticed that she's not like all the other girls?"

There was a long pause. Then Iku said, "Neither are you."

Dhiti blinked. "Excuse me," she said, "but was that an attempt at humour? Because if it was, I have to tell you that you're not allowed to do that. It's in the by-laws. I have it in writing from Hayashi and Itsuko-san. I'm the funny one, and you're the one who can't talk without stammering."

"Beth is funny sometimes," said Iku cautiously.

"Yes, but Beth is a space alien. Remember? C'mon, repeat after me: 'Beth is a space alien.' Come on, you can do it!"

"'B-Beth is a space alien.'"

"There, now. Doesn't that feel good?"

"I…no," Iku admitted. "I need to know, and you just keep making jokes."

"Hey," Dhiti said seriously. "Jokes are what I do. Don't knock it, all right? Everything's easier if you can keep a sense of humour." She sighed. "Look, I—I don't know, that's all. Maybe I'm just looking for a good straight man. Hayashi doesn't really fit the bill any more. Maybe you were so shy I thought you were irresistible. Maybe I just thought you could use a friend. Maybe…maybe a lot of things. Does it matter?"

Iku thought about it for a little. "Maybe," she said.

Dhiti grinned. "That's the spirit! Just remember, I _still_ intend to get you up singing karaoke before long. I want to see the expression on Beth's face…"

Plus, she did not add, there was the matter of a small wager with Bendis. But perhaps it would be best not to mention that part.

- - -

"So what did you want?" asked Beth.

Bendis paced restlessly to and fro in the grass. It was a mannerism that Beth had come to recognise: the cat was trying to work out how to say something awkward. "I've been talking to Artemis," she said at last.

"_Oh_." Beth remembered, all too well, what had happened the last time the cats had spoken. "Was he being nasty to you again?"

"Um. Not exactly. He asked me something." Bendis took a deep breath and said, "Beth-chan, would you mind if I don't come home with you tonight?"

"What! Is he trying to dump on you again—"

"No, he isn't!" the cat snapped. Beth stopped, looking at her in surprise, and Bendis went on, "He wants me to—to do something for him. It'd just be for tonight…well, maybe a couple of days, actually. But that's all."

"Do what?" asked Beth suspiciously. She'd had a very high opinion of Artemis, once; but that had changed shortly after she'd met him.

Bendis stopped her pacing and sat down, gazing levelly at Beth, the tip of her tail twitching to and fro. "I _told_ him you'd want to know," she said in a satisfied tone. "Well, apparently there might be someone spying on the Olympus. It seems that…"

She told Beth about the bug Itsuko had found in her office, and the device that fed a false signal to the eavesdroppers. "So we're safe, for now," she finished, "but still, Itsuko wants someone to snoop around and find out who's doing it. And naturally—" Bendis was positively preening now—"she wants a cat to do the snooping."

Beth frowned, taking it in. "Why you?" she asked. "Why not Artemis?"

"Because Artemis is too easy to recognise. Especially when everyone knows there're Senshi in Third Tokyo!"

"But nobody'll recognise you, is that it?"

"Right!" Bendis gave a haughty sniff. "Worse luck for them!"

Beth thought about it for a minute. Posturing aside, the cat did not seem too upset at the idea of returning to the Olympus. "Bendis-chan…do you _want_ to do this?"

"Something that Artemis can't do himself…and the chance to show him that I _can_?" Bendis showed her teeth. "What do _you_ think?"

Beth smiled. "Give him hell."

- - -

"I believe," said Itsuko quietly, "that we need to have a little talk, you and I."

Suzue cocked an eyebrow at her. "I suppose we do," she said.

They were standing off to one side of the clearing, well away from everyone else. It was quiet; the sound of the others' voices seemed distant. The sun, beginning to drop near the horizon, cast the pair's shadows far behind them across the grass.

"'Show me the error of my ways,'" quoted Itsuko.

"You're wrong about her, Hino-sama."

Itsuko snorted. "Big words. Which one of us actually _knew_ her?"

"She was your friend." Suzue's voice was soft, reflective. "Perhaps that's why you can't accept the truth."

"Are you _trying_ to be insulting?"

"You think of your friend, and don't see the wider picture," Suzue told her earnestly. "She was wise, and merciful, and gentle. She fought for love and justice. When the world was frozen, she restored it; and when her followers died, she raised them from the dead. Can you deny any of this?"

"Of course not." Itsuko shook her head impatiently. "We already talked about all this, last week. But your half-baked interpretation—"

"Lady Hino," said Suzue quietly, "someone who can do all of that…in what way is she different from a goddess?"

Itsuko sighed. "I knew you were going to try that one, sooner or later. Look, it's not that simple—"

She broke off. When she went on, it was in a different tone: quiet, no longer angry. "Wisdom, mercy, love, justice…those are all _human_ things, Suzue-san. They're attributes we admire, and aspire to, and so we seek them in those we worship. Buddha. Allah. Jesus. Kuan-yin. But the truth is that they are all attributes we can find in ourselves. And the best of humans—the ones we look up to, the ones we love—are the ones who stand for those things, who stand for what we would like to become. The ones who embody our dreams.

"Queen Serenity, Tsukino Usagi, she was one of those. Wise, merciful, gentle…she was all those things, and more. But Suzue-san, you must not stop there. You who would deify her, it's you who don't look at the whole picture. You don't see the girl who could trip over her own feet on flat ground. You don't see the mother who wanted to feed her baby chocolate milk, until Luna convinced her it was a bad idea. You don't see the queen who, to the end of her life, never mastered kanji." Itsuko's voice had become rough; she had to clear her throat. "You don't see, however powerful she became, how _human_ she remained."

There was a long, awkward silence. Then Suzue whispered, "You miss her."

"More than anything in the world."

The two stood in silence for some time. The sun had sunk noticeably, and a cool breeze was beginning to blow.

"I wonder, though," said Suzue at length. "You talk about how human she was…"

"Yes."

"Gautama Buddha was human. So was Jesus Christ. But did that lessen what _else_ they were?"

Itsuko sighed. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Would you?"

"I suppose not." She glanced at her watch, and sighed again. "Come to the Olympus sometime. Call me first; I'll work out something to keep Miyo out of the way. We'll talk more about this, if you want."

"Yes."

"All right, then." Under her breath, Itsuko muttered, "It's been a while since I've had to act as a priestess."

Suzue cocked an eyebrow at her. "Personally, it's my first time," she said dryly. Itsuko had to laugh.

"Actually," Suzue added suddenly, a faint glint in her eye, "maybe I should get you to come to the Temple, instead. There are meditation rooms there; we could use one of them. You could even stay for one of the services. It might do you good."

Itsuko gave her a dirty look. "Don't push your luck, kid."

Suzue shrugged, smiling.

"Oh, and by the way," Itsuko added. "As it happens, I am well aware of some of the…nomenclature your little church has chosen to adopt. I just want to say one thing. If I ever, and I mean ever, hear you refer to me as 'Saint Hino,' I am going to hurt you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Hino-sama," said Suzue demurely.

- - -

At length, Itsuko called Miyo away from where she was talking to Artemis. They packed up the cooler and the remainder of the picnic gear, and loaded them into the van. It took little more time to round up the girls, who were beginning to look anxiously at the setting sun, and load them as well.

As the van started to bump its way back to the road, its headlights making dark shadows of the surrounding trees, a cheerful chatter began to fill the rear section. Before the passengers could get too side-tracked, Artemis decided to bring them back to business.

He leaped up and balanced precariously on the rear of the front seat. "All right," he announced. "I want to talk about what we managed to do today. Itsuko and I have made a few notes on your progress, and I think we—"

He was rudely interrupted by a rolled-up jacket that hit him in the chest and knocked him to the floor. Ignoring the laughter, he climbed back onto the seat back and stared at them suspiciously.

Miyo was not laughing…quite. "Artemis," she said, "we're all tired. Can we skip the blow-by-blow, please?"

He studied her balefully. She still had her own summer jacket, though, so it could not have been her.

"Yeah," added Dhiti. "Look, cat, we know we've got stuff to work on. Okay? But save it for the next time, huh? It'll make more sense that way anyway." She had her jacket, too.

"I'm too hungry to think," added Beth ingenuously. "Obaasan, is there anything left?" She did _not_ have a jacket. But had she worn one in the first place? Suzue didn't have one either…

"I can't hear you," carolled Miyo back. "My ears must be too _old_ to hear you."

"Oh, come on, Miyo-chan—"

Artemis stole a sidelong glance at Itsuko. She was smiling as she drove. Perhaps, he reflected, that was good enough.

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -

Early on Monday morning, the 'S' Division team gathered in the disguised command post behind the Olympus.

It was the first time they had all been together in more than three weeks. The futility of the cat-search, the raid on the Hoseki Property Group, and the general loss of morale from being kept on a mission that they all knew was ludicrous, if not actually insane, had spread them far and wide. Now, a sudden, urgent call had brought them back.

Hiiro looked up and gave a casual nod of welcome as Kuroi and Masao climbed into the van. "Morning, Ryozo," he said to Kuroi. "Morning, Kitada. Glad to see you're on time today."

Masao gave him a mock-salute. "Hi, Captain. I was going to be late just for you, but—"

Kuroi snorted. "Cut the crap," he said shortly.

Masao ignored the surliness with easy familiarity. He and Kuroi had been working together for several weeks now. He had learned that the burly, perpetually-bestubbled man was invariably harsh, rude and unfriendly. On the other hand, his manner was completely impersonal; he treated everyone, including his superior officers, that way. After a while, the rudeness ceased to register, because Kuroi was also one of the most completely competent people Masao had ever met.

Consider how much of a change he had worked in Masao himself. Six weeks ago Kitada Masao had been a mild-mannered accountant who'd been two hours late for his first meeting with 'S' Division because he had been throwing up in terror at the very idea. Today, instead, he was relaxed, confident, and felt ready to handle anything.

Kuroi would say that just showed how far he had to go. Masao concealed a grin at the thought. And cut the crap.

"What have you got?" he asked instead. "Don't say someone's actually _found_ the cat."

"Don't be silly." Hiiro looked up as the van door opened once more and added, "Captain Aoiro. Morning. Good; the gang's all here."

"So what _is_ it?" demanded Kuroi impatiently. "Damn it, your message didn't say a friggin' thing about what this is all—"

"It wasn't my message," Hiiro said mildly.

"Mine," said a voice from the back of the van. They looked around and saw Mitsukai, seated as always at her computer station. Masao's eyes widened at the sight of her.

She looked a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot; her hair, wild and unruly, was clearly unwashed. So were her clothes. Her pale face made the dark circles under her eyes seem deeper and darker than ever, giving her a cadaverous look. She was gaunt and haggard, and Masao, remembering how tired she had seemed when he'd met her the day before, guessed that she hadn't slept since then, either.

But she moved with a restless, jerky energy, and her voice was sharp and crisp. "Take a look at this," she said, moving to the desk along the side of the van and laying down a sheaf of papers.

They studied them for a few moments. Then Aoiro said, "What the hell?"

"I see it," said Kuroi, at almost the same moment. "Damn. That's good, Mitsukai. Very subtle. How the hell did you ever pick it up?"

"The Hoseki files," Mitsukai answered shortly. Masao, glancing up at her, almost thought that she smiled for a moment. Almost.

"_I_ don't get it," he said, looking back at the papers. "A bunch of property transfer deeds? Why? Isn't this one—" he pointed—"the one we found in the 'S' Division files, a few weeks ago?"

Hiiro tsked. "So it is," he said reprovingly. "Shouldn't have been removed from the file room, Mitsukai. Very naughty." He picked up the papers and grinned at her. "Very good, though."

She smiled back this time. Definitely.

"So," said Hiiro, leafing through the documents. "Someone has falsified the records for the Olympus building. Pappa-san didn't buy it; she inherited it. Some clever fellow took a random second deed, changed a few details, and substituted it for the real Olympus deed in our computer systems. _Very_ clever fellow, hmm?"

"They couldn't get to the original paper document, though," added Kuroi. "And they couldn't insert the fake into the Hoseki systems as well. Too bad for them that we decided to raid Hoseki to check."

"EE," muttered Masao. "Electronic espionage."

Hiiro shot him an amused glance. "Right," he said. "Maybe. The question, of course, is: why? Why did she want to hide the way she inherited the building? And how did she manage to break into the 'S' Division systems to do it?"

"Assuming it was her, of course," Aoiro commented. "Mitsukai, anything funny about the inheritance?"

She stared back at him, eyes heavy-lidded. "That," she replied, "is where it gets _really_ interesting."

She went back to her computer and tapped a key. A succession of new documents appeared on the screen. "Pappadopoulos inherited the Olympus building from Ochida Junko in 4179. A distant relative, apparently. Pappadopoulos was born in Greece; she didn't actually come here to take possession until 4183."

Kuroi shrugged. "So?"

"Very few details on her background, and no birth certificate on file in Thebes. That's not surprising, though; Hellenic records are pretty chaotic. But the earliest passport I could find was 4176, and that was filed in Third Tokyo, not Thebes."

Hiiro and Kuroi exchanged glances. "Before she even came here in the first place," said Kuroi. "Bingo."

"False identity," agreed Aoiro. "The Greek thing is a cute touch, too; nice and hard to follow. Good work, Mitsukai."

"Right," said Hiiro. "So. Our mysterious Pappa-san shows up in '83, converts—" he glanced at the screen again—"a dojo and public meeting hall into a gymnasium, and settles down quietly to help fat people get thin. Nice for her. Who was she before, though, and what's she _really_ up to?"

"There's more," said Mitsukai. "I checked the back-history of the property. It was acquired in 4122 by a woman named Someya Izumi. It was a housing section, then. In '38, she knocked the houses down and put up the current Olympus building. She died in '41, and it was inherited by a distant relative, Umari Yuko. Umari passed away in '60, and left it to Ochida Junko, who was—"

"A distant relative?" enquired Aoiro. She glanced at him and nodded.

There was a long silence. "A lot of distant relatives," remarked Hiiro thoughtfully.

"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Kuroi. "Every twenty years, the owner dies and leaves it to a female relation? Is this some kind of secret society thing, or what?"

Mitsukai tapped another key on her computer. A picture appeared on the screen. "Pappadopoulos Itsuko," she said unnecessarily. Another key, and another picture: a woman with shoulder-length black hair. "Ochida Junko," she said. Another picture: a redhead with a pony-tail. "Umari Yuko." And one more: a blurry picture in black and white. "Someya Izumi." She touched the keyboard and the four pictures were arranged in a rectangle.

Aoiro whistled. "Hell of a family resemblance," he said. Apart from hair colour and style, the four were eerily alike.

"You know," he added after a moment, "seeing them all together…they almost remind me of someone. Now I wonder who…"

Mitsukai touched her keyboard again. A fifth picture appeared in the centre of the others. A famous one. From the history books.

"Oh, no," said Aoiro.

"Oh, shit," said Hiiro.

"And now we know why we saw Artemis hanging around," Mitsukai murmured quietly.

Kuroi spat out a curse. "You're saying that Hino Rei—the original fucking Sailor Mars—is alive and well, and living in Third Tokyo? Oh shitodamn."

"Changing her identity every twenty years," said Hiiro. "Pretending to die, going away for a while, then coming back and picking up where she left off."

"She must really like that building," said Masao. The others stared at him. "Sorry."

"No, you're right," answered Hiiro. "But why would she need to—no, scratch that. Of course she wouldn't want everyone to know who she is."

"But…she died, seven hundred years ago!" Masao protested. "It has to be a coincidence, it has to!"

"Yeah," snarled Kuroi. "Just like Artemis was. Come on, Kitada, you saw the damn cat yourself!"

"But—"

"The real question," said Aoiro, "is—what do we do about it?"

Nobody answered for a long time.

"Do we have to do anything?" asked Masao. "I mean…it's the same as with Artemis, isn't it? If they're living here…is it any of our business? Can't we just let them be?"

"It's not that easy now, though," said Hiiro reluctantly. "Kitada, why did we come here in the first place?"

"Well…to look for a missing cat."

"But why _here_?"

"Because I saw that poster—" Masao trailed off, eyes widening.

"A poster advertising a missing cat, matching our description, written on official Olympus stationery," said Hiiro. "Seems pretty likely now that Pappadopoulos—or Hino—put it up herself, don't you think?"

"And took it down when we started getting interested," said Aoiro.

"Yes, but—"

"Oh my God," said Kuroi suddenly, in a strange, tight voice. "I don't believe it. Shit, forget Sailor Mars, I just do not believe it—"

"What?" Hiiro looked around. Kuroi was staring out one of the narrow, darkened windows on the side of the van. Just ahead of the van, walking casually down the narrow back street, was a small figure.

A tabby cat. The circular mark on its forehead was clearly visible.

The one they'd been hunting for nearly six weeks.

Hiiro reacted instantly. "Open the back door," he hissed to Kuroi. "Aoiro, pass him the net gun. Quietly! Ryozo, when it goes past, get ready to hit it. The rest of you, keep down."

Smoothly, Kuroi came to life again. He silently eased the rear door open a little. Then, taking the proffered weapon from Aoiro, he hunched back, as far out of sight as possible. The others followed suit.

"Wait for it," whispered Hiiro. Outside, the cat had stopped; it was sniffing curiously at the nearby charging station, and the fraying cable that led from it to the van. Then it moved on. "Okay, ready. Wait a minute, what's it doing now—"

They all heard the tiny thump as the cat leaped smoothly in through the half-open door. It stared around at the equipment lockers, the monitors and the computers. "Ah-ha!" it muttered, sounding pleased with itself. "Found it!"

Then it looked up, and saw the five people staring down at it. Its eyes widened. "Whoops," it said.

The firing angle was all wrong. Hiiro saw it and burst out of his niche, lunging for the cat. It stared at him for a fraction of a second, huge-eyed, then whirled and shot out of the door again. At just the right moment, as the cat passed through his sights, Kuroi fired.

His aim was thrown off a fraction by the shifting of the van as Hiiro moved. That, combined with the narrowness of the gap he was firing through, was just enough. One end of the net caught on the lower edge of the door. The far end actually dropped over the cat's hindquarters; but, even as they watched, it struggled free again and raced away.

With a snarl, Kuroi burst out of the van and sprinted after it. The others watched him go.

"Well," said Aoiro. "That could have gone better."

Hiiro just shook his head silently. Two or three minutes later, Kuroi returned to the van, his face dark with anger. "It ran into the Olympus," he reported angrily. "Straight in the main goddamn entrance! I followed it in, but…" He shrugged, scowling. "The whole bottom floor is all shops and cafes, and half of them are just opening up. Damn cat was already out of sight."

"Of course it was." Hiiro sighed. "Still, I don't think there's much question any more about what we're chasing, is there? Or why."

He closed his eyes for a moment in thought. "All right," he said. "We've blown our cover. Well, it can't be helped. Mitsukai, call for backup, will you? There's not much chance we can catch the thing in a place that size, but we'll give it a shot. And while you're at it, call headquarters. Tell them what we've found."

He glanced over at Masao. "Sorry, Kitada," he said. "We've got no choice now. We've got to report it all."

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
**END OF CHAPTER TEN**

**Next:** A ghost from the past, a flight, and an unexpected saviour.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Took a while, didn't it? Sorry about that.

It should, I hope, be unnecessary for me to say this; but all religious opinions expressed within this chapter are those of the characters, and not of the author.

My thanks to the following for their valuable commentary: Helmut Ott, Steve "Komodo" T, "Z", Jed Hagen, Douglass Weeks, Marcus Fong, Joshua Stratton, Chris Angelini, Bert Miller, LaShawn Wanak, David McMillan. Without you all, the chapter would have been significantly worse.


	12. Interlude: Queen Serenity and her Senshi

** Queen Serenity and her Senshi  
"Shadow Trap: Prisoners in Space"  
(Second Draft)**

**

* * *

Season: 3  
Episode: 5  
24 July 4200**

* * *

Story . . . . . . . . . . . . . Kano Hirokichi  
Teleplay . . . . . . . . . . . Segawa Eri & Kano Hirokichi  
Executive Producer . . . . . . Fumihiko Sadako  
Producer . . . . . . . . . . . Angus MacSpon 

**

* * *

1. Opening titles**  
OP: "Together in Crystal Dreams"

**  
2. EXT. CRYSTAL TOKYO—DISTANCE SHOT**  
_Pan across the spires of Crystal Tokyo. It's mid-morning, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful day, as always. Linger a few beats on the tranquil scene. Then, with a sudden scream:_

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Yeeeee!

_Princess Usagi bursts into view, coming up from behind and roaring past the camera: nine years old, pink hair, twin odangos, and all attitude. She is riding a hover-board at high speed, a few hundred metres up in the air, zooming down toward the city. Her arms are outspread to catch the wind and she is shouting for joy._

_A moment later, with another scream of exhilaration, Princess Kakyu follows Usagi. She is seven years old, with vivid green hair and a single odango and long pony-tail at the back of her head._

_Another instant, and the two are followed by Prince Elios on a third hover-board. He is also seven, with bright blond hair in a mullet._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Yahooooo!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Wait for meeeee!

_Elios and Kakyu are trying to catch up with Usagi, but she is way ahead of them. The three roar down, weaving and banking, until, in a matter of seconds, they are lost to view among the spires of the city._

**  
3. INT. SAILOR JUPITER'S QUARTERS**  
_Sailor Jupiter is standing over a hot stove, delicately adding a pinch of spice to something purple in a pot. Suddenly Usagi, Kakyu and Elios roar past her window, one at a time. She looks up._

**SAILOR JUPITER**: _(smiling)_ They're at it again…

**  
4. INT. SAILOR MARS' QUARTERS**  
_Mars is still in bed, sprawled out in an ungainly pose. There are a number of bottles on the bedside table, most of them suspiciously empty. With a sudden blast of sound, the three kids shoot past, waking Mars._

**SAILOR MARS**: _(groaning, clutching her head in pain)_ Those dratted kids…!

**  
5. INT. FENCING ARENA**  
_A fencing match is in progress. Two figures, masked and wearing full protective gear, battle each other back and forth along the piste. A crowd in the background cheer them both on. Suddenly the three hover-boarders shoot past the windows at the end of the arena. One of the fencers is distracted._

**FENCER**: Whaaa…?

_In a flash, the other fencer lunges forward in a dazzling move, spearing the distracted man in the chest. The audience bursts into applause. The winner pulls off her mask to reveal a smirking Sailor Venus. She glances toward the windows._

**SAILOR VENUS**: Guess I owe the princesses one…again.

**  
6. INT. SAILOR MERCURY'S LABORATORY**  
_The laboratory is filled with racks of equipment, benches filled with chemical apparatus, bubbling retorts, etc, and shelves of thick technical books. Sailor Mercury is standing before a large, complex piece of equipment. Her usual round glasses have been replaced by ones with red-tinted lenses._

_She presses a switch and a pencil-thin laser beam shoots out at a test sample. It begins to vaporise. At that moment, the three princesses shoot past the window. Sailor Mercury does not react._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: _(still watching experiment)_ Good…good… _(beat)_ Morning, princess…

_She makes a note on her computer._

**  
7. EXT. FLYING THROUGH CITY**  
_The three hover-boarders race through the city streets, weaving to and fro, up and down. They skim past a cleaning droid which is polishing one crystal spire, causing it to panic in a shower of sparks. Finally they zip in through one wide-open window._

**  
8. INT. PALACE—USAGI'S QUARTERS**  
_The hover-boarders enter through the window and jump to the floor. Elios stumbles and falls as he lands. All three are laughing._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: That was so great!

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: We went so high…

**PRINCESS USAGI**: See? I told you you'd like it.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: But you know Captain Taiki told us we're not supposed to go out flying without permission.

**PRINCE ELIOS**: _(gulps)_ Are we gonna get in trouble?

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _(grinning)_ Not as long as we don't get found out.

**QUEEN SERENITY (O/S)**: Found out about what?

_The three kids look around to see that the queen has entered, unnoticed. She is smiling, but it's a smile that spells trouble._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Uh-oh.

_FADE TO BLACK_

**  
9. EPISODE TITLES  
** "Shadow Trap: Prisoners in Space"

_FADE IN:_

**10. INT. THRONE HALL**  
_Slow pan through the hall, ending on the Queen, who is talking to a palace servant._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Make sure that all three hover-boards are locked away for the next month. Princess Usagi should be old enough to know how reckless a stunt that was. Endangering Kakyu and Elios just makes it worse. _(beat)_ Oh, and no dessert for Usagi for a week, either.

**SERVANT**: Yes, Your Majesty.

_The servant bows and departs. As she reaches the door, it opens and Captain Yaten enters. The servant bobs her head as he passes. He is a tall, massively-muscled bald man with a dark scar running down his face. He wears a heavy leather uniform. He strides toward the Queen, boots ringing on the floor, and gives a short bow._

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: Your Majesty, we've intercepted a signal from the Asteroid Belt. It's coming…from the direction of the Palace of Skulls.

**QUEEN SERENITY**: _(stunned)_ W-what? Queen Ryoko's palace? But we defeated her and her Space Pirates months ago! The Palace of Skulls was destroyed…

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: Yes, Majesty. We don't actually think it's an intelligent signal at all. It's pure random gibberish. But you did command us to keep watch on the palace ruins.

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Then there's no chance that…she could somehow have survived…?

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: We all saw her destroyed, Your Majesty. This signal is probably just from some left-over bit of machinery that's finally losing power. But still—

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Still, it would be wise to check it out. Very well, Captain. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Please inform Sailor Mercury of this, and ask her to investigate it for me. _(beat)_ That mysterious shadow we've seen several times in the last few weeks…we can't afford to take any risks…

_Captain Yaten salutes, and turns to leave._

**  
11. INT. PALACE CORRIDORS**  
_Yaten heads for Sailor Mercury's laboratory._

**  
12. INT. SAILOR MERCURY'S LABORATORY**  
_Yaten enters the laboratory without knocking. His eyes widen, and he ducks frantically. An instant later, a massive energy beam strikes a target right behind where he was standing._

**SAILOR MERCURY (O/S)**: Oh, sorry!

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: _(standing up and brushing himself down, poker-faced)_ Quite all right, Sailor Mercury.

_Pan around to reveal Mercury standing at a complex control panel. A viewscreen, out of Yaten's sight, shows him in silhouette. There is a big targeting cross-hair right over his heart._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: I was just testing my…well, never mind. How can I help you, Captain?

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: It's not me; it's the queen. There's something she'd like you to take a look at…

**  
13. INT. PALACE—USAGI'S QUARTERS**  
_Usagi is pacing up and down, in a temper. Kakyu and Elios are sitting to once side, watching her and occasionally exchanging glances._

**PRICESS USAGI**: A whole _month_! It's not fair! I wasn't in any danger; Mother knows how well I can fly! How can she do this to me!

_She catches sight of Kakyu and Elios, and looks embarrassed for a moment._

**PRINCES USAGI (CONT'D)**: Um, I mean…I was the one who suggested it. It's not fair that you should be punished too. _(beat)_ But still…a whole _month_!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: _And_ a week without dessert.

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _(even more depressed)_ And…a week without dessert.

_From out of shot, we hear a high-pitched whine start up. It's faint at first, but gradually becomes recognisably the sound of a Viper's engines warming up._

_The kids carry on, not noticing yet._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: _(elbowing Elios in the ribs)_ Dummy! Why'd you have to say that?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: I was just saying.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Well just don't!

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Hey…what's that noise?

_They look around, suddenly aware of the Viper engine-sounds. All three hurry to the window and look out. As they reach it, the Viper moves slowly into view. Sailor Mercury is visible in the cockpit. The Viper starts to accelerate forward, still ascending, and vanishes into the sky._

**PRINCESS USAGI (CON'T)**: Sailor Mercury? I wonder where she's going?

**  
14-16. EXT. SPACE—TRANSITION SHOTS**  
_The Earth falls away behind Mercury's Viper.  
Empty space: Mercury's Viper shoots past the camera with an audible whoosh.  
Space, another angle: The Viper approaches and passes the camera. As we pan around to follow, we see a line of asteroids ahead, tiny in the distance._

**  
17. EXT. SPACE—ASTEROID BELT**  
_Mercury's Viper manoeuvres through the belt, banking around tumbling asteroids. We hear a faint 'ping'ing sound._

**  
18. INT. VIPER COCKPIT**  
_The 'ping'ing sound is louder inside the Viper. Mercury studies her controls._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Yes…a definite source. I've got you now…

**  
19. EXT. SPACE—ASTEROID BELT**  
_The Viper makes a tight turn around an asteroid and heads in a different direction. As it moves off, we ZOOM IN to show a tiny camera anchored to the asteroid, tracking the Viper's movements._

**  
20. INT. VIPER COCKPIT**  
_The 'ping'ing sound is a little louder, a little clearer._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Just a little further…

_Suddenly her face registers shock. Ominous, dramatic music._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Oh, dear!

_Just ahead, from her POV, we see the ruins of the Palace of Skulls, exactly as it was left at the end of Season 2. Carved out of a giant asteroid, a vast, intricate web of domes, launch tubes, solar collectors, etc, laid out so that the patterns of buildings seem to resemble a maze of stark, grinning skulls. Now half the palace is a litter of charred, blackened wreckage, but it still presents a chilling sight._

_Mercury touches a control on her console._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Mercury to Crystal One. Confirm that the signal comes from the Palace of Skulls. I'm going in to investigate.

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: _(distorted, over comm)_ Roger that, Sailor Mercury. Good luck.

**  
21. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_The Viper airlock slides open and Sailor Mercury climbs out, her Caduceus in her right hand. She launches herself away from the Viper and drifts for a few seconds down toward the palace._

**  
22. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—ENTRY HALL**  
_Gloomy music, with a hint of Ryoko's theme tune in a minor key._

_All is in shadow, only partly visible. Sailor Mercury walks in slowly, scanning all around her with her computer as she goes. She walks past a vast, torn portrait of Queen Ryoko with a shudder._

_As she moves off, ZOOM IN on the face of the portrait. We see that one of Ryoko's eyes has been replaced by a camera that swivels to follow Sailor Mercury._

**  
23-25. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_A series of brief shots as Mercury walks through various palace rooms. All of them are at least partly wrecked; some are open to space._

**  
26. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—THRONE HALL**  
_The throne hall is strewn with wreckage from the final battle. Ryoko's throne is overturned, the back cracked in two. The gloomy music reaches a peak. Sailor Mercury picks her way gingerly past the rubble, still studying her computer._

_In the darkness, as she leaves the room, we see two ghostly points of light appear—like glowing eyes blinking open._

**  
27. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—CORRIDOR**  
_The roof and part of one wall of the corridor have been blasted open; we can see stars and distant asteroids outside._

_There is a bulky cleaning droid, lying apparently inert in the middle of the corridor. As Sailor Mercury enters, we see that it has a single faint glowing light on its control board. Mercury notices this and stops._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: There it is! A derelict cleaning droid—is that all?

_Relieved, she steps closer to look. As she does, there is a faint hint of movement, almost invisible, behind her._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Yes, I see—a leaky energy coil.

_Suddenly she freezes._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Wait a minute—there isn't nearly enough power left here to be detected on Earth—

_She whirls around, starting to raise her Caduceus—but too late. With a brilliant flash, an energy beam from the roof strikes her full-on. She convulses and falls to the floor. The Caduceus, dropped, floats out through the shattered wall into space._

_In the darkness, we see a shadowy figure glide toward Mercury's limp body. It is roughly humanoid, but completely black; we cannot make out any features at all. But where its eyes should be, there are two glittering points of light._

**  
28. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Pull slowly away from the Palace. After a second, in the foreground, the Caduceus drifts past, lost._

_FADE TO BLACK_

_(Commercial break)_

_FADE IN:_

**29. INT. PALACE—KAKYU AND ELIOS' QUARTERS**  
_Princess Kakyu is brushing her hair, humming a sweet little song under her breath. Suddenly the door bursts open and Prince Elios rushes in, wildly excited._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Kakyu-neesan! I just found out—

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Don't you ever knock?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: You gotta listen! I found out where Sailor Mercury went this morning!

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: _(unimpressed)_ Oh? How?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: I overheard Captain Yaten talking to Captain Seiya. He said that she went out to the asteroid belt! The queen sent her to investigate something.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: _(alarmed)_ The asteroid belt? Did…did they think it's something to do with…Queen…

_She shivers at the thought._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: _(comforting)_ Don't worry, oneesan. Queen Ryoko is dead. She can't hurt us any more. _(beat; then, indignantly:)_ But still…the asteroid belt! That's _our_ dem—…dem—…

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Demesne?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Um…I think so. Anyway, she shouldn't be going out there without _us_!

_Kakyu puts down her brush. She can see where this is heading._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: You want to go after her…?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Of course!

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: All right.

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Oh, come on, oneesan, I…what? Really?

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: I want to see for myself…that Ryoko is really gone.

**  
30. **(DELETED)

**  
31. EXT. PALACE ROOF**  
_Kakyu and Elios emerge onto the roof. They look around, somewhat guiltily. Nobody is in sight._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Ready?

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Ready.

_They face each other and reach out one hand to one other, so that their fingers are almost touching._

**ELIOS AND KAKYU**: _(together)_ STAR TWINS POWER…MAKE-UP!

**  
32. TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE—STOCK SHOT**  
_Stock transformation sequence. A vortex of energy surrounds the two, sweeping them up and merging them together, then fading away to reveal the slender, androgynous form of Sailor Asteroid._

**  
33. EXT. PALACE ROOF**  
_Sailor Asteroid glances up at the sky._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: Sailor Mercury…I'm coming.

_S/he races across to the rooftop hangar and touches the palm-print reader. The doors begin to rumble open, revealing the ranks of mecha standing silently within. Sailor Asteroid runs to the Ceres, a sleek, electric pink unit. The front plastron slides open as Asteroid approaches, and s/he climbs in. As the plastron closes again, Ceres' eyes begin to glow._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: CereCere…launch!

_The deep hum of engines powering up. Ceres rises from the hangar floor, glides forward through the doors, and then shoots into the sky, leaving a trail of translucent pink that lingers for a second behind it._

**  
34. INT. PALACE SECURITY**  
_Central Security is filled with glowing monitors showing images and digital readouts of a thousand locations. In the background, people huddle over the displays. In the foreground, Captain Seiya studies her own panel. She is fifty-ish, with slate-grey hair. There is a metal plate bolted on where her left eye should be. A glowing blue sensor is fitted in the middle of the eye-plate._

_There is a sudden 'ding', and a light on her panel turns red. She stiffens, then touches a control. The panel shows a wire-frame detail of the roof-top hangar._

**CAPTAIN SEIYA**: Hel-lo. An unscheduled launch?

**  
35. INT. USAGI'S QUARTERS**  
_Princess Usagi is lounging on a couch, looking morose. Suddenly something casts a faint pink light across her face. She looks up, and we see from her POV: Ceres rising rapidly into the sky._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: CereCere? Where's Sailor Asteroid going?

**  
36. INT. PALACE SECURITY**  
_Captain Seiya has been joined at the security desk by Captain Yaten._

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: You're sure it's the Ceres?

**CAPTAIN SEIYA**: Definitely. It could be support for Sailor Mercury's mission…?

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: Perhaps. You'd better inform the queen, just in case.

**  
37. EXT. PALACE ROOF**  
_Pan across the roof for a moment. The hangar still stands open. After a few seconds, the stairwell door opens a crack, and a pair of pink odangos poke through. A few seconds later, Princess Usagi's head follows._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _(whispering)_ Nobody's around. _(beat)_ Sailor Asteroid…how could you go off and leave me behind?

_She tip-toes across to the hangar in a very exaggerated I'm-being-sneaky way. Inside, she heads for the Star Pegasus, a towering, vaguely horse-shaped mecha. The chest plates open as she approaches it, and a ladder descends silently. Usagi is just beginning to climb when:_

**QUEEN SERENITY (O/S)**: And _where_ do you think you're going, young lady?

_Usagi looks around to see the Queen standing in the stairwell door. Captains Yaten and Seiya are just behind her._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Oh…drats.

**  
38. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Pause for a moment on the palace. Then, with a whoosh, Ceres roars into view from behind the camera (echoing the episode's opening shot), heading toward the palace._

**  
39. INT. CERES**  
_Sailor Asteroid is seated in Ceres' control rig, arms and legs encased in control gauntlets and boots. A screen shows an exterior view of the Palace of Skulls._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: Sailor Asteroid to Sailor Mercury…do you read me? Sailor Asteroid to Sailor Mercury…

**  
40. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Pull back as Ceres approaches the palace. A small asteroid drifts nearby—the same asteroid as in scene 19. We ZOOM IN to show the camera anchored to its surface is now tracking Ceres._

**SAILOR ASTEROID (O/S)**: Are you receiving me? Come in, Sailor Mercury.

**  
41. INT. CERES**  
_A blip appears on Sailor Asteroid's screen. S/he touches a switch and the screen zooms in to show Sailor Mercury's Viper, drifting not far from the Palace of Skulls._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: The airlock door is still open. Mercury must be inside the Palace…

**  
42. SPLIT SCREEN: ELIOS / KAKYU**  
_Elios and Kakyu face each other against a blank background._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: We'd better go in and check she's okay.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: No! I'm afraid…!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: But we have to. We're Sailor Asteroid.

_Kakyu hesitates. Then her resolve firms._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: All right. I'm ready.

**  
43. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Ceres' front plastron opens silently and Sailor Asteroid emerges. S/he leaps toward the Palace, drifting a few seconds in free-fall, head-first, before doing a showy flip to make a perfect landing before the main gate. S/he walks in without looking back._

**  
44. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—THRONE HALL**  
_Sailor Asteroid stands in the Throne Hall, looking around. S/he has a haunted expression._

**PRINCESS KAKYU (V/O)**: Ryoko's not here. She's really gone.

**PRINCE ELIOS (V/O)**: I told you.

**PRINCESS KAKYU (V/O)**: …All right. Let's find Sailor Mercury and get out of here.

**  
45. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—CORRIDOR—SAME AS 27**  
_Sailor Asteroid approaches the cleaning droid and steps past it with barely a glance. S/he moves on toward the end of the corridor._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: _(into communicator)_ Sailor Asteroid to Sailor Mercury…do you read me? Sailor Asteroid to—

_There is a sudden burst of static from the communicator._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: _(distorted)_ Sailor Asteroid—watch out—it's a trap—!

_Another roar of static from the communicator, almost drowning out what could be a cry of pain. Then silence._

_Sailor Asteroid whirls, and starts to sprint back the way s/he came. Suddenly the cleaning droid comes to life, moving to intercept. Asteroid raises a hand, and energy starts to collect there for an attack—_

_Too late. The same energy beam that hit Mercury lances down again. Asteroid screams—tries to fight off the attack. But the beam is relentless, following as s/he tries to evade it. With one last cry, Asteroid convulses and separates into Kakyu and Elios, who fall to the floor, unconscious._

_The shadowy figure we saw earlier moves in silently toward them… and we_

_FADE TO BLACK_

_  
FADE IN:_

**46. ELIOS' POV—BLUR/DISTORT**  
_At first all we see is a misty blur. Slowly this resolves into the face of Sailor Mercury, as seen from Elios' POV, looking directly into the camera._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: _(fuzzy at first, then becoming clearer)_ …lios? Prince Elios? Can you hear me? Are you all right?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Uhh? Whaaa…?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: _(looking away from him)_ He's awake.

**  
47. INT. PRISON CELL**  
_A small, featureless room. The floor, walls and roof are all bare metal. A closed door, with no handle or control pad, is on one wall._

_Elios is lying on the floor, looking round. Sailor Mercury is kneeling by his side, with one hand on his forehead; Kakyu is hovering a little way off._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Elios! You're okay!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Oneesan? What—what happened? Where are we?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: In a holding cell. I can't tell exactly where; the whole room is energy-screened, so my computer can't pick up much. I think we're still in the Palace of Skulls, though. _(beat)_ You were taken prisoner the same way I was.

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Some kind of…ray…?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: That's right. Now, what on Earth are you two doing out here? Did the Queen send you?

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: No. We came on our own.

**PRINCE ELIOS**: I heard you were coming here and I wanted—

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: _We_ wanted.

**SAILOR MERCURY**: That was very foolish of the two of you. Does anyone else know you came?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: No.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Who did this? Who attacked us? Was—was it Queen Ryoko?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: _(startled)_ Ryoko? Of course not! She was destroyed when the Alpha Fleet rebelled and joined us to attack the Palace of Skulls. Don't you remember?

**PRINCE ELIOS**: That's what _I_ said.

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: But then who—

**SAILOR MERCURY**: I'm not sure. But there have been a number of unexplained disasters across the Solar System in the last few weeks. Strange alien forces attacked Titan and Rhea Base. When the senshi went to investigate, we drove off the attackers, but there was something else…a dark shadow that seemed to command them…that we could never quite catch.

_As she speaks, we see a montage of the events she's describing, superimposed behind her face._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: _(shivering)_ A shadow?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Yes. My computer scans at Rhea Base showed some kind of negative energy that I've never seen before. Our enemy may not come from this solar system…or even this universe.

_Suddenly there is a strange, unearthly laugh—sinister, not "mad" —followed by a voice that seems to come from nowhere._

**SHADOW VOICE**: Very impressive, Sailor Mercury. But it's time for your little guessing games to end.

_The cell door slides open. The cleaning droid enters…but now it has undergone a transformation of its own. It is bristling with weapons, all of them aimed at the three._

**SHADOW VOICE**: Step into my parlour…said the spider to the fly.

_Slowly, the three raise their hands._

**  
48. INT. SHADOW CONTROL ROOM**  
_The three step into a huge control room, filled with banks of mysterious equipment. There is a faint glow of light from the equipment; some of the control consoles show patterns of lights, or viewscreens filled with incomprehensible data; but overall the chamber is very dark and gloomy._

_Mercury, Kakyu and Elios stand for a moment, their hands behind their heads, staring around._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: What the…

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Wow…

_A door at the far side of the room slides open, and a tall figure enters. It is roughly human-sized, but for now we can make out no features in the darkness. There are glints of light from where its eyes should be._

**SHADOW**: Welcome, Sailor Mercury…and the redoubtable star twins, Princess Kakyu and Prince Elios. Or should I say, Sailor Asteroid?

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: _(gasps)_ How did you—

**PRINCE ELIOS**: You can't—

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Who are you? What do you want?

**SHADOW**: What do I want? Why, you, Sailor Mercury. The information locked inside your head. _(beat)_ I knew that if I made the lure subtle enough, you would be the one to come.

**SAILOR MERCURY**: What do you mean? What are you—

_The shadow makes a sudden gesture. A beam of light spears down from the ceiling and engulfs Mercury. She is frozen in place with a cry of dismay. At the same time, a slim, deadly-looking weapon lowers down and trains itself on the twins._

**SHADOW**: _(another sinister laugh)_ And now, Sailor Mercury…you will give me the security codes to unlock the ginzuishou…or I will destroy the twins before your very eyes.

_Close-up on Mercury. We can see the agony of indecision in her expression. Tense music. Reaction shots of the twins, their faces taut with fear._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Sailor Mercury! No!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Don't do it!

**SHADOW**: Choose, Sailor Mercury! Will it be life…or death?

_It begins to laugh again. Close-up on Mercury's face once more, as the tension music builds to a climax. She closes her eyes for a moment…then opens them once more, her expression resolute._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: I—

_There is a sudden explosion of sound—dozens of alarms and warning signals going off, drowning out her words. The control stations all around the room are alight with flashing red and orange indicators. The alarms are so loud that we can barely hear the shadow's snarl of frustration._

**SHADOW**: What—!

**  
49. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Start from a close-up on the palace; then pull back, and back, to finally reveal the vast shape of the royal command carrier, the_ Endymion,_ gliding majestically toward the palace._

_After a moment a launch bay slides open, and three tiny shapes shoot out. As they accelerate away from the __Endymion_, zoom in once more to show they are Vipers.

**  
50. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_Queen Serenity stands at a console on the bridge, tall, serene and elegant. The usual bridge bunnies are at their own consoles. Standing near the rear of the bridge is Captain Yaten, brawny arms folded across his massive chest. At his side, looking forlorn and depressed, is Princess Usagi._

_A comm link to the three Vipers is open, and we can hear a buzz of chatter from the senshi, slightly distorted._

**SAILOR VENUS (COMM)**: Anything yet?

**SAILOR JUPITER (COMM)**: Nothing.

**SAILOR MARS (COMM)**: Are we sure this isn't a wild goose chase?

**  
51. EXT. SPACE—ASTEROID BELT**  
_Asteroids drifting here and thee. Three Vipers loop and wheel between them, obviously searching._

**SAILOR VENUS (COMM)**: Just keep looking.

**SAILOR VENUS (COMM)**: Wait a minute…got something now. Hold on a sec… It's Mercury's Viper.

**  
52. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_Close-up on Serenity's face. Sudden tension in her expression. In the background, Usagi is wide-eyed._

**  
53. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Sailor Mercury's Viper drifts as we saw it last. Venus' Viper is now nearby._

**SAILOR VENUS (COMM)**: The airlock is open. She's not here.

**  
54. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS, ANOTHER ANGLE**  
_The Ceres drifts where Sailor Asteroid left it. Now another Viper draws near._

**SAILOR MARS (COMM)**: I've found the Ceres. Nobody here either. What did those stupid little kids think they were doing—?

_A sudden gasp of dismay over the comm-link. Then:_

**SAILOR JUPITER (COMM)**: I've found something too. Oh, no…

**  
55. **(DELETED)

**  
56. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS, ANOTHER ANGLE**  
_Sailor Jupiter's Viper has come to a halt. Jupiter is floating a short distance from the Viper. She is reaching out for an object half-invisible in shadow._

**SAILOR JUPITER**: It's…it's Mercury's Caduceus.

_Close-up on the Caduceus as she speaks: an ornate short staff with the Mercury symbol on one end, and a small control pad mounted in the handle. There is a blackened area of carbon scoring part way along the staff._

**SAILOR MARS (COMM)**: But…for Mercury to lose it…

**SAILOR JUPITER**: It's been hit by some kind of energy beam. _(beat)_ Mercury too, probably. She'd never drop it otherwise.

**SAILOR VENUS (COMM)**: She must be in the Palace. Her and Sailor Asteroid. We've got to go in after them.

**QUEEN SERENITY (COMM)**: Wait.

**  
57-59. INT. VIPER COCKPITS**  
_Quick close-ups on Venus', Mars' and Jupiter's faces. Over these, we hear Serenity's voice continue._

**QUEEN SERENITY (COMM)**: Come back aboard the _Endymion_. That's an order.

**  
60. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_Captain Yaten is now working at a console to one side. Queen Serenity is looking over his shoulder._

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: Still no response from Sailor Mercury or Sailor Asteroid, Your Majesty. But from this close, we can detect the energy signature of the enemy— whoever it is.

_Nearby, Captain Seiya at another console._

**CAPTAIN SEIYA**: The same negative energy as at Rhea Base.

_Seiya and Yaten exchange grim looks._

_The rear door hisses open and the three senshi enter. Jupiter is carrying the Caduceus. She leans it against the rear wall as she comes in, then moves forward to stand with the rest._

**SAILOR VENUS**: Why? Why can't we go in?

**QUEEN SERENITY**: It's obvious Sailor Mercury was hit by some kind of surprise attack. She must be a prisoner now.

**SAILOR MARS**: If she's alive.

_Queen Serenity gives her a look. Mars blanches and falls back._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: If you go charging straight in, you'll only endanger Mercury and Asteroid. We have to find another way.

_One of the bridge bunnies speaks up. She is, of course, young, cute and perky._

**BRIDGE BUNNY A**: Comm channel now open, your Majesty.

_Queen Serenity goes to the comms console._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: This is Queen Serenity of the Crystal Millennium, calling the Palace of Skulls. Respond at once. Palace of Skulls, respond.

_She continues to call. At the rear of the bridge, Usagi steps slowly toward the Caduceus and reaches out to touch it gingerly. She looks frightened._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Palace of Skulls, respond immediately. Respond, or we will—

_Suddenly we hear laughter—the same sinister, mocking laughter as we heard in the shadow control room. A second after the laughter begins, the main viewscreen on the bridge flickers and shows a dark, blurry image. Slowly, it begins to grow clearer as the shadow speaks._

**SHADOW**: Or you will what…_Queen_ Serenity?

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Who are you?

_The shadow becomes clear at last. A lean, male face wearing tinted glasses that reflect the light. He has a sharply-cut beard, and his face is set in a sadistic smirk._

**SHADOW**: I am Gendo…the Death Phantom.

**  
61. INT. SHADOW CONTROL ROOM**  
_Gendo stands before a huge viewscreen that shows Queen Serenity. The bridge of the __Endymion_ is visible behind her.

_He gestures behind him, to where Mercury, Kakyu and Elios all stand, imprisoned by the same columns of light that we saw trap Mercury before._

**GENDO**: And now, Queen Serenity…you will surrender to me…or watch your friends die…!

_FADE TO BLACK_

_  
(Commercial break)_

_  
FADE IN:_

**62. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_Recap of the end of the last scene. On the __Endymion_'s viewscreen, we can see Gendo, his face clear at last. Behind him, imprisoned in columns of light, are Mercury, Kakyu and Elios.

**GENDO**: I am Gendo…the Death Phantom.

**  
63. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE—ANOTHER ANGLE**  
_Quick reaction shot of Serenity and the other three senshi. Shock, horror._

**  
64. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE—SAME AS 62**  
_Back to the viewscreen._

**GENDO**: And now, Queen Serenity…you will surrender to me…or watch your friends die!

_Pause. Then the lights on Mercury, Kakyu and Elios pulse, and Kakyu and Elios cry out in pain._

**VENUS / JUPITER / MARS**: _(together)_ No!  
Stop! Don't!  
You sonuva—

**QUEEN SERENITY**: _(icy calm)_ Silence.

_The three shut up._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Who _are_ you? Why are you doing this?

**GENDO**: _(laughs)_ That, you will never learn. _(beat)_ You have ten minutes to comply. After that…

_The screen shimmers, then goes dark._

**  
65. INT. SHADOW CONTROL ROOM**  
_Gendo stands looking up at his own viewscreen, which now shows a distant image of the __Endymion_. He gives a cold laugh.

**GENDO**: Fools. I already know you won't surrender. But the threat will keep you busy…until I have what I need.

_He touches a control, and the three columns of light wink out. Mercury, Kakyu and Elios slump to the floor, unconscious._

**GENDO**: Take them back to their cell. Then fetch the mind probe.

_The cleaning droid moves ominously toward the three limp bodies. Gendo looks back up at the viewscreen for a moment, then touches another control._

**GENDO**: _(to viewscreen)_ There. That should give you something to think about.

**  
66. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_As before. The screen now shows an external view of the palace. One of the bridge bunnies suddenly gasps._

**BRIDGE BUNNY A**: Look!

_On the viewscreen, the palace has been surrounded by a defensive net: an intricate, ever-shifting web of energy, like a globe of arcing electricity that encloses the palace._

**CAPTAIN YATEN**: A defense web…

**CAPTAIN SEIYA**: Incredibly powerful.

**SAILOR JUPITER**: Could we make it through in our vipers?

_Seiya taps a control, brings up a schematic of the palace and the web around it._

**CAPTAIN SEIYA**: Never. You'd be cut to pieces.

**  
67. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE—ANOTHER ANGLE**  
_Close-up on Usagi._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _You're_ too big to get through…

**  
68. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE—SAME AS 66**  
**SAILOR MARS**: If we form the Omega Senshi, we could overpower the web.

**SAILOR JUPITER**: But we can't form the Omega Senshi without Sailor Mercury.

**SAILOR VENUS**: If Mercury still had her Caduceus she could get out. But…

**  
69. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE—SAME AS 67**  
_Close-up on Usagi. Wide-eyed, she looks over at the Caduceus, still resting against the wall not far away, and then back to the screen._

_Slowly fade the background bridge sounds, and the voices of the arguing senshi, down to a tense silence. Then:_

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Kakyu…Elios…Sailor Mercury…

**  
70-75. MONTAGE**  
_Sequence of quick shots from previous episodes, superimposed over Usagi's face as she remembers key scenes from the past. Each flashback scene is re-rendered in monochrome. We hear no audio from any of the scenes; just background music._

_1. Usagi lies in bed, her face a ghastly colour, critically ill with the Pluto Plague. Sailor Mercury stands at her side, exhausted from days without sleep searching for a cure, and rests a cool hand on Usagi's forehead._

_2. Usagi cowers in the throne room of the Palace of Skulls. Sailor Asteroid stands over her, grim and terrifying. In the background, seated on her throne, head thrown back, Queen Ryoko laughs wildly._

_3. The ruins of Station Epsilon. Finally defeated, Sailor Asteroid falls at the feet of Sailor Jupiter. There is a sudden glow and s/he separates, becoming two weeping children, clutching each other. As Jupiter stares in shock, Princess Usagi steps timidly toward them._

_4. The courtyard before the palace in Crystal Tokyo, during the attack of the Proton Warriors. Usagi, Kakyu and Elios crouch at the feet of Sailor Mercury, who is holding off the combined attacks of all five Warriors with her Caduceus Shield._

_5. The bridge of the __Endymion_. On the viewscreen, the combined armada of Crystal Tokyo and the Alpha Fleet thunder in toward the doomed Palace of Skulls. In the foreground, their backs toward us, watching the screen, are Princess Usagi, between Kakyu and Elios. The three are holding hands.

_6. A quick glimpse of the opening scene: Usagi, Kakyu and Elios riding their hover-boards through the spires of Crystal Tokyo._

**  
76. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_The bridge background noise is back. Usagi glances around, suddenly resolute. Nobody is paying attention. She picks up the Caduceus and runs out._

**  
77. INT. _ENDYMION_—CORRIDOR**  
_Usagi runs down a corridor, clutching the Caduceus._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _(panting a little)_ It's got to be there…she always locks it in the same place…

**  
78. INT. _ENDYMION_—QUEEN SERENITY'S QUERTERS**  
_The room is impeccably clean and elegant. On the bedside table is a photograph of the Queen and her husband; but as always, a coincidental reflection makes it impossible to make out his face._

_The door hisses open and Usagi runs in. She sprints to the wardrobe door and tries it. It is locked. She stamps in fury, and looks around the room, uncertain. Suddenly her eyes light up. She goes to the bed and gingerly lifts the corner of the mattress. There is a little silver key underneath._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Oh, Mama!

_She snatches it up, runs back to the wardrobe, and unlocks it. The door swings open…revealing three hover-boards._

**  
79. EXT. ASTEROID BELT—_ENDYMION_**  
_Silence for two or three seconds. Then a hatch glides open, and a tiny figure shoots out: Usagi, riding her hover-board, the Caduceus still firmly tucked under her arm._

_Once out of the ship, she glides to a halt, orients herself…and then darts away, directly toward the Palace of Skulls._

**  
80. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_The discussion on what to do next is still raging. Suddenly there is the chime of an alert from the computer._

**BRIDGE BUNNY A**: Your Majesty…!

_They all turn to look. The bridge bunny adjusts the controls, and the viewscreen zooms in to show Usagi heading for the defense web._

**SAILOR JUPITER**: No!

**SAILOR MARS**: She'll be killed!

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Usagi—!

**SAILOR VENUS**: No, wait! There's a chance. She's small…if she can just move fast enough…

_They watch, tense._

**  
81. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Usagi nears the perimeter of the defense web. Crawling, ever-shifting arcs of energy are everywhere. It seems impossible to avoid them all. At the last instant, Usagi suddenly ducks to the left, then sharply cuts upward and to the right, between two strands of energy, and enters the web._

**  
82-88. DEFENSE WEB**  
_Sequence of confusing, rapid, fast-cut shots from odd angles. Usagi twists and turns wildly, her moves as fast as lightning, displaying phenomenal control of her hover-board, as she passes through a constantly-shifting maze of energy._

**  
89. EXT. PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_The inner side of the web around the palace. Usagi suddenly bursts out of the web, flying nearly upside-down at high speed, and cuts to the right just in time to avoid slamming into the palace wall. Without pausing, she turns again and zooms through the main gate._

**  
90. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—ENTRY HALL**  
_Usagi flies along the hall, slowing a little._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Now, if I were a death phantom, where would I have my prisoners…?

_Suddenly, there is a glow from her arms. The Caduceus is pulsing with a faint light._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Of course! It's reacting to Sailor Mercury! It will show me the way!

_She puts on speed again._

**  
91. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—THRONE HALL**  
_Usagi flies through at high speed. The Caduceus is glowing a little brighter._

**  
92. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—CORRIDOR—SAME AS 27**  
_The cleaning droid is nowhere to be seen. The defense web can be seen, pulsing and flaring, through the hole in the wall and roof._

_Usagi flies down the corridor, the Caduceus glowing brightly._

**  
93. INT. PRISON CELL**  
_The same cell as before, but there is now a row of three chairs set against the far wall. Elios, Kakyu and Mercury are seated in them, held in place by straps on their wrists and ankles. A metal helmet, covered with sinister flashing lights, is on Mercury's head; it is connected to a large, complex device. The cleaning droid is nearby, linked to this device by a heavy cable._

_A row of lights on the front of the droid begin to pulse. The lights on the device, and on Mercury's helmet, pulse in sync. Mercury screams in agony._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: No! no! Aaaaah!

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Stop it! Please stop!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Help! Anybody…

_Gendo's voice comes from a speaker on the wall._

**GENDO (V/O)**: Spare yourself the pain, Sailor Mercury. Stop resisting the mind probe. Just give me the infomation I require.

**SAILOR MERCURY**: N-never…

**GENDO (V/O)**: Very well. You force my hand. _(beat)_ Increase to power level nine.

_The lights flash faster._

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Aaahhhhh!

_Suddenly the door bursts open. Usagi flies in on her hover-board and stares, aghast, at the scene._

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Usagi!

_The cleaning droid begins to turn in Usagi's direction. She moves forward quickly, and slams the Caduceus down on its "head". There is a burst of energy; the cleaning droid's lights go out, and it freezes. Mercury sags back into her chair, looking semi-conscious._

**PRINCESS KAKYU**: Hurry! Get us out of these!

_Usagi is already moving. She hops off her board, and quickly releases the three._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: We've got to move fast! Quick, everybody…

_Not far away, an alarm siren begins to wail._

**  
94. INT. SHADOW CONTROL ROOM**  
_Gendo is studying an indecipherable computer display on a monitor labelled "MIND PROBE". He looks up, startled, as the alarm sounds._

**GENDO**: What the—?

**  
95. INT. PRISON CELL**  
_Kakyu and Elios have become Sailor Asteroid again. Usagi, Mercury and Asteroid are now floating, in an awkward balancing act, on the hover-board: Usagi in front; Mercury (still looking woozy) behind her, with her arms around Usagi; and Asteroid holding on rather precariously at the rear._

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Let's go!

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: _(strained voice)_ And hurry, please…

_The board begins to move out the door. It gradually picks up speed, but it is still moving much slower than before._

**  
96. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—CORRIDOR—SAME AS 27**  
_The four wobble down the corridor on the hover-board, moving a little faster now. Suddenly, at the end of the corridor, Gendo appears._

**GENDO**: Stop where you are! You fools…if you think I'll let you escape so—

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: No! Not this time!

_S/he drops from the rear of the hover-board, touching wrist-bands together with the usual chiming sound and spark of energy._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: Asteroid Power! Form of a laser!

_A beam of energy shoots from the wrist-bands, striking the roof over Gendo's head. With a loud rumble, the roof collapses. _

**GENDO**: Aaah—!

_Gendo is apparently buried. Sailor Asteroid sprints to catch up to the hover-board, leaping onto the rear. _

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: Now, Princess! Let's get out of here!

**PRINCESS USAGI**: Right.

_She banks to the right, and the hover-board shoots out through the hole in the wall._

**  
97. EXT. PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_Outside the hold in the wall. The hover-board hurtles out, directly toward the defense web. Sudden terror on the board-riders' faces._

**SAILOR ASTEROID**: Look out!

**PRINCESS USAGI**: No! We're going too slow—I won't be able to dodge fast enough!

**SAILOR MERCURY**: My Caduceus! Quick!

_Usagi slaps the Caduceus into Mercury's hands (which are still looped around Usagi's neck). At the last instant before they run into the web, Mercury closes her hands around the shaft of the device._

_Suddenly the four of them, and the hover-board, are surrounded by a pearly shell of light. They pass into the web—and the deadly arcs of energy glance off the shell harmlessly. A moment later, the four are lost to view._

**  
98. DEFENSE WEB**  
_Quick shot of the four, barely visible within the Caduceus Shield, racing through the web._

**  
99. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—CORRIDOR**  
_The pile of rubble that buried Gendo. Ominous chords. Suddenly a black-gloved hand shoots out of the pile._

**  
100. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_The four shoot free of the web. The Caduceus Shield flickers off. They coast for a moment, then bank around and head toward the__Endymion_.

**  
101. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_The viewscreen shows the four, heading for home. Everyone shouts for joy. General relief. A quick glimpse of Queen Serenity, her face shining with pride._

**  
102. QUEEN SERENITY—STOCK SHOT**  
_Close-up on the Queen._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Now, my senshi!

**  
103. INT. _ENDYMION_—LAUNCH BAY—STOCK SHOT**  
_Action music. The senshi leap into their Vipers. One by one, the Vipers launch into space._

**  
104. EXT. SPACE—STOCK SHOT**  
_The four Vipers loop around the __Endymion_. As they do, the _Endymion_ begins to reconfigure itself. With whines of power and solid metallic clunking sounds, the front section tilts up, the rear section separating and reshaping itself. One by one, the Vipers slot themselves into place in the transforming ship.

**SAILOR VENUS**: Sailor Venus—lock!

**SAILOR JUPITER**: Sailor Jupiter—lock!

**SAILOR MERCURY**: Sailor Mercury—lock!

**SAILOR MARS**: Sailor Mars—lock!

**ALL FOUR**: _(together)_ Senshi Power!

_The __Endymion_, and the docked vipers, have become a giant humanoid figure—yes, a female one—floating in space.

**  
105. INT. PALACE OF SKULLS—ANOTHER CORRIDOR**  
_Gendo races furiously down the corridor._

**  
106. INT. CONTROL COCKPIT—STOCK SHOT**  
_The cockpit of the giant figure. Queen Serenity is in the pilot's seat. (Everyone else on the bridge earlier has mysteriously—and conveniently—vanished.)_

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Omega Senshi—Activate!

_She draws out the ginzuishou and pushes it into a prominent socket on the control panel. All around her, displays suddenly light up, and there is a rising hum of power._

**  
107. EXT. SPACE—STOCK SHOT**  
_Close-up on the head of the transformed ship—the Omega Senshi. Its eyes suddenly glow a blinding silver._

**  
108. EXT. SPACE—STOCK SHOT**  
_The Omega Senshi raises a vast sceptre, glittering with power._

**  
109. INT. CONTROL COCKPIT—STOCK SHOT**  
_Queen Serenity places her hands on the control yokes._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: Omega Retribution Strike!

**  
110. EXT. SPACE—STOCK SHOT**  
_A titanic vortex of power shoots out from the Omega Senshi's sceptre._

**  
111. EXT. SPACE—PALACE OF SKULLS**  
_The vortex strikes the defense web surrounding the palace. The web glows brilliantly—holds for a second—then collapses with a flare of energy. The vortex hammers into the palace._

**  
112. EXT. SPACE—ASTEROID BELT**  
_We see the Palace of Skulls in the distance; the Omega Senshi is closer, to one side. The Palace explodes with a blinding flash; the Omega Senshi is silhouetted against the light._

_As the glare fades, we catch a brief glimpse of something small and dark, darting away from the destruction._

**  
113. INT. ESCAPE POD**  
_A small, dimly-lit pod. Outside the front window, the stars wheel and spin crazily. Gendo is seated at the controls._

**GENDO**: Curse you, Serenity!

_Outside, the stars steady as he brings the pod under control._

**GENDO**: That was the least powerful of my bases! You've set me back by a few days—no more. And when I return…

_Again, the sinister laugh._

**  
114. EXT. SPACE—ASTEROID BELT**  
_The escape pod recedes into the distance._

_FADE TO BLACK_

_  
FADE IN:_

**115. INT. _ENDYMION_—BRIDGE**  
_The senshi, plus Usagi, Kakyu and Elios, are clustered around Queen Serenity._

**SAILOR JUPITER**: He got away, then?

**SAILOR MERCURY**: I'm afraid so. I'm sure we haven't seen the last of him.

**SAILOR VENUS**: Huh. Figures.

**PRINCESS USAGI**: But why was he attacking us? What did he want?

**SAILOR MARS**: Oh, what does it matter? If he shows up again, we'll just pound him again.

**QUEEN SERENITY**: For once, Sailor Mars, you're right. This "Death Phantom" captured one of my senshi, and threatened those I love. _(she rests a hand on the heads of Kakyu and Elios, and looks over at Mercury)_ If my daughter hadn't saved you, all three of you might be dead.

_Usagi looks up at her, eyes shining._

**QUEEN SERENITY**: His deeds cannot be forgiven. In the name of the Moon…he will be punished.

**PRINCESS USAGI**: _(cheering)_ We'll beat him!

**PRINCE ELIOS**: Yeah, and me, too!

_They all look down at him. As he blushes scarlet, everybody laughs._

_FADE TO BLACK_

**  
116. Closing titles**  
ED: "The Sword of Love"

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
**END OF INTERLUDE**

**

* * *

**

**Note:**

This interlude does not form part of the mainline "Sailor Moon 4200" storyline. Instead, it is an episode (in teleplay form) of the year-4200 anime "Queen Serenity and her Senshi", an anime which several of the SM4200 characters watch religiously. Obviously, it's not an anime that tries to stick closely to any kind of continuity except its own—this may possibly be why the SM4200 characters like it.

For me, as a writer, it was also an excuse to see how many genre cliches I could squeeze into one episode. I think I covered most of the bases...


	13. Chapter 11: Spies II

**What has gone before:** Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in the year 3478. Civilisation fell; a dark age began. Now, the year 4200 is a time of renaissance, and the city of Third Tokyo is defended by a new generation of Senshi. Some of them are old faces, reborn yet again. Others are newcomers. But all of them are in trouble—because the enemy that annihilated Crystal Tokyo was never defeated. And it is waiting for them… 

**In recent chapters:** The five Senshi are together at last, under the mentorship of Artemis, his great-granddaughter Bendis, and Itsuko (once Hino Rei). Mistakenly thinking that their friends are in danger, Venus, Mars and Uranus return to the warehouse where they last fought Lady Blue. There they encounter an 'M' Division team on a secret mission, but are tricked into believing that the team are actually from the criminal Sankaku Clans. In a battle between the groups, Sailor Mars' powers develop an unexpected new facet. Itsuko is startled to discover that Suzue is a member of the Church of Serenity; later, she is further taken aback when Suzue refuses to accept that her beliefs are wrong, insisting that it is Itsuko who is mistaken. Beth learns that her fantasy boyfriend, Eitoku, has really been dating Nanako all along. During a combined group training session, as the five Senshi begin to come together as a team, she realises that she will have to reevaluate her friends. The 'S' Division team who are investigating the Olympus discover Itsuko's true identity, and learn that the cat they have been searching for, Bendis, is staying with her.

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
By Angus MacSpon  
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi  
**CHAPTER ELEVEN  
Spies (II):  
Watchers, Hunters and Fugitives**

- - -

Bendis flew up the stairs of the Olympus as if pursued by wild dogs. It was as good as true. 

On the second floor she raced past the vacant eyes of a night receptionist nearing the end of her shift, and into the gymnasium offices. Then out through a half-open window; up the fire escape with frantic, erratic bounds; and in another window on the top floor. She found Artemis snoozing on the couch and woke him with a hasty claw. 

"What!" he shouted, jumping up and looking around blearily. "I didn't do it! It was—" His eyes finally focussed on her. "Bendis?" he said, seeing her frantic state. "What's wrong?" 

"Help! They're after me!" she gabbled. "We have to get away!" 

He froze. "After you? Who?" 

She started to explain. Artemis listened for almost twenty seconds before he ran to wake Itsuko up. 

- - -

In the street below, 'S' Division was on the move. 

All those weeks of patient investigation had at last borne unexpected fruit. The team responded smoothly and efficiently. Hiiro was gratified; he had feared that so much inactivity might have blunted them. But his team worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving into position with only a word or two of orders. Even Kitada, the Irregular newcomer, fitted in without trouble. 

The command van, for so long parked in a back street behind the Olympus, had withdrawn a block or two. Its transformation from a dilapidated wreck to a functional, if nondescript, vehicle had taken less than thirty seconds; the rear wheels, apparently stolen long ago, slid down out of their concealed wells, and the missing side panels clipped back on in a moment. In the rear, Lieutenant Mitsukai simultaneously coordinated the team's movements, monitored the swarm of cameras that surrounded the Olympus building, and acted as communications liaison with headquarters, reporting their findings and requesting immediate backup. In the front, Kitada acted as driver, while remaining ready to move in to back up any of the others if required. 

Captain Hiiro stood guard at the main doors to the Olympus. The net gun he held in the crook of his arm was casually hidden by a jacket slung over his shoulder. Kuroi and Aoiro, similarly armed, watched two of the side doors. It was not enough, not nearly, but Hiiro was working on that. 

He nodded politely to a middle-aged woman as she walked past him into the building. However, most of his attention was on the voice in his ear. "Captain Murasaki reports he'll be with you in four minutes," Mitsukai reported over the commlink. "Lieutenant Giniro should be there two minutes later." 

"How many people have they got?" Hiiro asked in a low voice. Belying his calm posture, his eyes never stopped moving, constantly checking the door and the street around him. "Do they have nets?" 

"Giniro's team do. They stopped to pick them up; that's why they're late. She has five in her team; Murasaki has seven." 

He swore under his breath. "Nineteen people to surround a building this size," he muttered. "And half of us without nets." 

He was exaggerating, though, and he knew it. They wouldn't need to surround the building; he was pretty sure he knew exactly where they'd find their target. His eyes strayed to a window on the top floor. 

"Headquarters say the next team that can get here will take another ten minutes," Mitsukai told him. "Unless you want them to come by Opal—" 

"Hell, no," Hiiro snapped. "Not unless they want the whole city to know we're up to something. Bring in Opals and we'll have newsies popping out of the woodwork, asking what's going on." He broke off as a passing man in a suit gave him an odd look. 

"Yes, sir," answered Mitsukai patiently. "Another four minutes until Murasaki arrives." 

"All right. We have to cover what we can. Tell Kitada to move in. If the cat went upstairs, I want him covering the fire escapes at the back. And listen, warn everyone: don't expect it to act like a cat. It's as smart as a human, maybe smarter…" 

Over the next five minutes a tight cordon wove itself around the building. But there was nobody to cover the entrance to the underground car park until too late; and the private car with the white-haired woman at the wheel drove away from the Olympus entirely unnoticed. 

- - -

Itsuko pulled over to the side of the road, a few minutes later and three kilometres away. "All right," she said. "What now?" 

"I want to go home," muttered Bendis from the rear seat. 

"Oh, very good," said Artemis acidly. "Any _constructive_ suggestions?" 

Bendis have him a stubborn look. "I want to go home," she repeated. "To Beth-chan's house. It'll be safe there." 

"That's not what I…" Artemis sighed, and gave in. "Okay. Fine. Let's not even _consider_ the implications of what just happened—" 

"Oh, don't take on," said Itsuko quietly. "Nobody's suggesting that we just ignore it.—Bendis, who were they? Did you see anything that would identify them?" 

"I didn't have time," the younger cat protested. "I just looked inside the van, and then they tried to grab me. One of them threw something at me—like a jacket, or something—and I ran back to your place." 

"Right," said Artemis grimly. "You ran inside, with him chasing you. You could have led him _away_ from the Olympus, but—" He broke off with a sigh. "No. Never mind that. What did you _see_?" 

"It was all full of computers and vidscreens," Bendis said, remembering. "And nine or ten people, I think. But outside, it was really old and beaten-up, like somebody just dumped it there." 

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Hmm. I may have seen that van, come to think of it. But who could they be? What are they watching the Olympus for?" 

"To find us," said Artemis impatiently. 

"Yes, but _why_? Are they working for Lady Blue? Or the Sankaku, for heaven's sake? Who?" 

"Whoever they are," the white cat mused, "they have to be the same ones who bugged your office. It…doesn't seem Lady Blue's style, somehow. She's the direct type." 

"The Sankaku, maybe?" Itsuko thought about it. "After what they tried last week…you know, it could make a kind of sense. Capturing Senshi, or Moon Cats—if they couldn't use you directly, you can bet they'd at least be able to hold you for ransom. The Serenity Council would have to pay; the public outcry if they didn't would be enormous." 

"And they just happened to stumble onto us at the Olympus by accident?" Artemis scoffed. "That's pretty thin." 

"Back when we saw them putting up those cameras…Venus had just made her first appearance back, remember," Itsuko pointed out. "And not all that far from here. Yes, I know, it's thin. But Artemis, what else makes sense?" 

Bendis listened to them argue, and remained silent. She was thinking about another time when she had spoken aloud without thinking, to a man who had given her a fish. She thought about the Opals that had pursued her and Artemis in the weeks which followed that moment of carelessness; and she thought about the Opal in the warehouse yard, five days ago, when Mars, Venus and Uranus had nearly been captured. She thought about it all; and then she thought about what Artemis would say if he heard that she had spoken in front of the people in the van. And she remained silent. 

- - -

Captain Hiiro glided silently up the final flight of stairs, web gun at the ready. Kuroi and Aoiro were behind him, followed by three men from Giniro's team. As they emerged at the top, Hiiro gestured and the others began to spread out, their eyes watchful. 

Down below, other agents were working their way through the building. The lower floors and the basement levels were as secure as three—now five—teams of 'S' Division Regulars could make them. A cat that could get through the cordon they had set up would have to be invisible. And most of the customers had never noticed a thing. Civilians! 

Hiiro's eyes flicked left, then right. He started toward the nearest door, Kuroi moving to cover him, and reached out a hand for the knob—then froze as his commlink chirped. 

"Orders from headquarters," said Mitsukai's voice. "Pull back." 

"You have got to be kidding," he said. 

At the sound of his voice, the other men in the corridor looked around. One of Giniro's men reached up to touch the commset in his own ear. 

"I'm sorry, Captain," Mitsukai replied. "This comes direct from Colonel Shiro. Suspend all operations at the Olympus building. All teams to pull back to headquarters, and us especially. He wants to see you." 

"I bet he does," said Hiiro grimly. "'Suspend,' huh? Right. Damn him! He's just seen your report on what we've found out, and he knows how explosive this could get." 

He thought for a moment longer, threw one more longing look at the door, and then let out a long breath through his nose. "Okay," he said. "Get Kitada back to the van. Tell the other team leaders thanks, and we're pulling out now." 

"Already done," she said. 

"Yeah. I'll be with you in four minutes." 

He turned to the agents behind him and saw that Giniro's people had already received the word and left. "Come on," he told Kuroi and Aoiro, not trying to keep the disgust from his voice. "We're going home." 

Aoiro raised an eyebrow. "Somebody at HQ got cold feet?" 

"Probably." 

"Pity." Kuroi's tone was light, but the two of them had been friends for years and Hiiro could see the hidden anger in his eyes. "I've never gone up to a Senshi and told her we had to arrest her cat before." 

"Yeah, well, you've never been fried in your boots before, either." Hiiro was not, in fact, sorry to be leaving. Knowing that Pappadopoulos was Hino Rei, and that their target was almost certainly a Moon Cat, made for an uncomfortable feeling. He would have done it, obeyed his orders, if he'd had to; even if the chances of a fireball up his ass were dangerously high. But fireballs notwithstanding, he was relieved that he didn't have to. Going against a Senshi would be too much like…being the bad guy. 

All the same…"I just hate leaving a job half-finished," he grumbled as they walked downstairs again. Fortunately, both Aoiro and Kuroi were too intelligent to answer. 

When he got back to the van, he found even more good news waiting for him. Mitsukai had finally had a chance to start going through the recordings from their surveillance cameras, which had been building up, unobserved, for a couple of weeks now. Except that there were no recordings. Somehow, they had been erased. Every last one of them. 

- - -

Itsuko left Bendis at Beth's house, then—after some argument—took Artemis to Dhiti's. It seemed the safest choice. Putting him in the same house as Bendis would be asking for trouble, and she understood that Iku's family ran to dogs rather than cats; while leaving him with Suzue was flatly impossible, of course, though (to his great irritation) she refused to say why. 

Which did not mean, she thought as she drove away again, that putting Artemis and Dhiti together was not going to cause a different brand of trouble. The idea made her grin, but not for long. There were too many other things to worry about. 

They had been assuming that it was the cats who were being chased. But she had to face the possibility that, if too much attention were drawn to the Olympus, somebody might start asking questions about Itsuko herself. That could make things very awkward indeed. 

Once she got back to the Olympus, and saw Miyo off to school, she went into her secret room and meditated before the sacred fire for some time. The flames cleared to show a number of fleeting images—a girl with glowing red eyes; a shadowy figure holding a fire-pot; a puppy—but nothing that she could make sense of. 

She was about to give up when the flames cleared one last time. She saw Sailor Moon—unquestionably Sailor Moon, though the girl's back was turned, her face invisible—embracing a naked woman. 

Troubled, she returned to her office and tried to get some work done. She spent the rest of the day at it, but accomplished very little. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


Toyotomi Sese arrived at 'A' Division central headquarters to find a mountain of work waiting for her. That was not surprising; there was always a mountain of work waiting for her. She was Number Thirteen of the Serenity Council, the director of 'A' Division, and the work flowed onto her desk in a never-ending stream. 

Her schedule showed that she had ninety minutes before her first meeting of the day. There were another six lined up after that, and she would be lucky if any of them finished on time. The last one was scheduled at eight in the evening. In between, there was endless paperwork, reports to read, decisions to make. If all went well, she would be able to leave the office by eleven that night, to catch a few hours' sleep before starting the whole cycle again tomorrow. And people thought politicians had cushy jobs, she told herself, and snorted. 

One of today's meetings was with a newsie, she noted with a sigh. She tried to keep up a good public face, but lately there was only one topic that every interviewer wanted to talk about: the Senshi. Inevitably, her full name was bound to come up. 

('Serabi'…what kind of name was that to inflict on a child? She had started to insist that everyone call her 'Sese' when she was only eight. Even today, though, cartoonists sometimes drew her in a Sailor V mask and miniskirt. It wasn't just embarrassing; it was—for a dumpy-looking woman of fifty-five—ridiculous.) 

Well, Sese would be polite to the newsie when he showed up. But the first mention of Serabi, or Sailor V, and the interview would be suddenly over. She wasn't in the mood to take any cheap shots today. 

With a sigh, she lifted the top folder from her in-tray: the latest draft of a new set of fishing quotas in the Osumi Strait. Simple enough, but somehow it had ballooned to over three hundred pages. She was just beginning to run through the summary when her commset buzzed. 

She lifted the remote, annoyed at the interruption. "Yes," she said brusquely. 

Her impatience faded suddenly as she listened to what the voice at the other end told her. The fishing quotas on the Osumi Strait went forgotten, which would please the fishermen. When the caller finished, Sese said quietly, "All right. Let me know if you hear anything else." She hung up the remote without saying good-bye. 

For some minutes she sat at her desk, staring at the wall. Suddenly she had a decision to make, one that she had been putting off for nearly a week. Or, depending on how she looked at it, for six years. 

She stood and walked over to a framed photograph that hung on the wall. Her swearing-in as a Council member; had it really been that long ago? A well-earned honour, she had thought then, even if the seat was a low-ranking one. She had been working toward this point all her life, and she was ready for the challenge. 

But gradually, in the months that had followed, she'd come to realise that a different, hidden kind of politics was going on all around her. There were things that the other councillors kept from her. Meetings she was never informed of; memoranda which never reached her desk; planning sessions which somehow excluded her. Very subtly done, and seldom anything she could put her finger on. She could easily have missed it. For a long time, she tried to ignore it. 

Last week, for the first time, she had challenged the rest of the Council. It had seemed a trivial point—'S' Division agents being assigned to hunt for a lost pet—but when she raised the question, she found that it was anything but trivial. 'S' Division were hunting moon cats. Chairman Fukuda had explained the matter away, and he had been plausible enough, but… 

But he had been keeping it secret from her. And the reactions from the rest of the Council showed that _they_ had all known. 

What else were they keeping secret? 

And now this. A call from Tomiko in the 'S' Division dispatching office, and some disturbing news. Tomiko was an old friend; she knew that Sese was interested in the cat-hunt because the two of them had spoken about it a couple of weeks ago, while Sese was trying to decide whether to raise the subject with the Council. Now, Tomiko had some more interesting gossip to share. 

Early this morning, several teams of 'S' Division Regulars had been dispatched to a downtown shopping centre. Most of the teams had been equipped with net guns, of a size and type generally used for animal control. 

The moon-cat hunt was still under way. Number One had told her that it was being called off, and Number Three had confirmed it. 

They had lied to her. 

There was a pain in her hands. She opened her fingers and saw with distant surprise that her fingernails had left cuts in her palms. Only then did she realise that she had been clenching her fists; and only then did she realise how angry she was. 

They had _lied_ to her! 

She turned away from the picture. Had she thought that she had a decision to make? No. They had made it for her. The only question now was how to respond. 

She sat down at her desk once more, and lifted the commset remote. "Sven?" she said quietly. "Can you come in here for a moment?" 

Her private aide walked in a few seconds later and closed the door behind him. Ersson Sven was tall and lanky, with faded sandy hair; his Japanese was only faintly accented. He had been working for Sese for nearly fifteen years, and there were few people she trusted more. 

"What kind of contacts do we have in 'S' Division?" she asked without preamble. 

He blinked once, then half-closed his eyes in concentration. "I assume you mean people who're supposed to keep their mouths shut, but who'll talk to us?" he said. "Tricky. They keep things very tight there." 

"That's to be expected. Admin people, though? Filing clerks? Anyone who owes you a few favours?" 

"Just as tight," he answered. "You know that." When Sese did not respond immediately, he added, "It would help if I knew what you're looking for." 

Sese hesitated for an instant longer. "Cats." 

"Ah. That." 

"You've heard about it, then." 

"It's practically notorious," Sven said, raising an eyebrow. "What _about_ the famous cat hunt?" 

She told him, and watched his face grow suddenly still. "All right," he said after a minute or two. "There are some avenues. We could start through 'C' Division—a working group on strays, maybe. There's quite a population of feral cats and dogs in some parts of the country. That gives us an excuse to ask some innocent questions—" 

"Be careful," Sese cautioned. "They know I'm interested, so they'll be on the watch. We've got to keep this tight, Sven. If Takeda finds out we're getting nosy, things could get awkward." He nodded. "So. Draw up some ideas and get back to me tomorrow morning. I'll be making a few discreet enquiries of my own, as well." 

"Right." He turned to go, then looked back for a moment. "Was that all?" 

"Yes…wait. No." She looked away, back to the picture on the wall. Six years in office, she thought. Six years. 

"See if you can find a reliable hacker, would you?" she said. 

- - -

Later, after showing a pair of newsies into Sese's office, Sven closed the door and waited for the interview to get under way. He gave it a few minutes, then pulled out a mobile commset and dialled a number from memory. 

"Altair reporting," he said when a voice answered. "She's realised that something is wrong in the Council. She wants to investigate what they're up to." 

"Well then," said the voice at the other end, "perhaps we should help her out a little." 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


Beth walked to school slowly, and with some trepidation. There was a confrontation waiting for her when she arrived, and she was not looking forward to it. 

Just above her head, Bendis trotted along the top of a fence. In a low voice, the cat filled her in on what had happened that morning. Beth giggled briefly at the thought of Artemis and Dhiti living together; but it did not distract her for long. She was going to have to face Nanako and Eitoku when she arrived, and she honestly had no idea what to say to them. 

Itsuko had told her that the two of them would probably be very apologetic. That did sound likely. She wondered, though, just how sincere the apologies would be. Her best friend had been lying to her for months. Could she believe anything Nanako ever said again? 

She put the question to Bendis, who said, "I think you're overreacting. Nanako seems a bit too fond of secrets, but that doesn't mean she'll lie to you again." 

"Oh, fine," Beth grumbled. "So says the cat who's never even _met_ Nanako. A lot you'd know about her." 

There was no answer, and she glanced up. Bendis was not there. She looked back, surprised, and saw that the cat had stopped a few metres back, and was staring at her with an expression that looked almost guilty. "What's wrong?" she asked. 

Bendis gave herself a shake, then moved slowly up to join Beth once more. "Nothing," the cat said. "It's just…nothing." 

"It's obviously _something_," Beth said impatiently. 

"Well," Bendis said reluctantly, "I was just thinking. Sometimes a person might keep something secret with the best of intentions. You know? Only, once you've started doing that, it…can be awfully hard to stop it again. Without it seeming like a—" 

"Betrayal," Beth finished thoughtfully. 

The cat looked away. "Yes." 

"I think I see. You mean, Nanako might have—? But that's silly! She never had any reason to keep it secret in the first place!" 

"Oh…I don't know." Bendis still seemed peculiarly subdued. "Look, we're nearly there. I'd better go." 

"I guess. See you later, Bendis-chan." 

Odd, Beth thought as she walked on alone. Normally Bendis was quite happy to visit the school; it gave her an excuse to spend hours begging titbits from obliging students. What was wrong with her today? 

Then she remembered that she had other worries. School was just ahead, and she still didn't know what she was going to do when she met Nanako and Eitoku. And that was unfortunate, she realised with a sinking feeling, because Nanako was waiting for her at the gate. 

- - -

Nanako let out a silent breath as she saw Beth come into view. The other girl saw her at the same time and visibly hesitated. Nanako bit her lip. Then Beth came on, stopping in front of her and waiting. 

"Hi, Beth-chan," Nanako said. 

Beth stared at her for a minute longer. "Nanako-san," she said. 

Nanako looked away, wincing. "Okay," she said. "You have every reason to be angry with me. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again. I wouldn't even—but that's not important. Beth-chan, you have to believe one thing. Eitoku-kun and I never meant to hurt you. Never." 

Beth's eyes narrowed. "You have an odd way of showing it," she said. 

"It wasn't meant to be this way!" Nanako insisted. "If you'd just—" 

"Oh, come on! You two've been together all along, and you deliberately decided to hide it from me when I…what was it? When I started 'hanging around'…but you didn't mean it to _be_ this way?" Beth's face was flushed and angry. "Just how blind, how stupid do you think I am?" 

For a moment, Nanako's temper got the better of her. "Blind enough," she heard herself say. 

"What? _What_ did you say?" 

She hadn't meant to bring this up. She really hadn't. But perhaps it was for the best after all. "Beth-chan," she said, choosing her words carefully, "how could you have spent all this time with Eitoku…watching him, drawing pictures of him, even writing those little poems about him, and don't think we didn't notice…how could you possibly do all that, and still not know a thing about him?" 

"Wha—?" Beth froze, visibly stunned. Then she burst out, "That's not true!" 

"Yeah? What's his birthday, Beth-chan?" 

"His—" 

"What's his favourite food? C'mon, you must know that, you've watched him eat it a couple of dozen times at least. What's his best subject in school? What sports does he like?" 

"He—he likes—" 

"You don't really know anything at all, do you? You watch him, and all you see are your own fantasies." 

"Shut up! Shut _up_!" 

Nanako sighed. It was no good after all. She should never have expected any different. "Don't you see?" she said. "It was never meant to come to this. I swear! We just thought—no, _I_ just thought—that if I pulled you in, made you actually _talk_ to the guy…sooner or later, you'd have to see the truth." She let out a short, humourless bark of laughter. "Guess I got that one wrong." 

"All right," said Beth wildly. "Then I can still—" 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, open your _eyes_!" With some effort, Nanako got herself back under control. "Beth-chan, it went too far. A lot too far. I admit it. By the time I realised that you weren't going to give up, it had gone too far already. But now…it's past time, and you've got to accept it. There is absolutely no chance that Eitoku-kun would ever fall in love with you. None." 

Something seemed to crumple in Beth's expression. "Why?" she asked bitterly. "Am I so stupid that I'm not worth considering?" 

"No, Beth-chan. It's got nothing to do with that." Nanako took a deep breath. "Eitoku-kun would never consider you because you are a Claver." 

Beth stared at her, incredulously, for what seemed like an age. Then she said, "That is a dirty lie." 

Nanako shook her head mutely. 

"It is! I know it is! I—" Beth broke off, then went on in a rush, "I _know_ it is! A few weeks ago, when I was…when I was having some problems, he talked to me! He gave me advice! He helped me! He likes me, I know he does!" 

Sadly, Nanako shook her head again. "It's not the same," she said. "Beth-chan, he doesn't dislike you. That's true. He'd be happy to be your friend, if you'd just open your eyes and back off a little. But that's all. I'm sorry; I really am sorry. But that's all." 

"So you get him because you're Japanese," Beth whispered. "That's…not fair." 

"I get him because I already had him," Nanako corrected her. "But otherwise, you're right. It's not fair." 

"I'm as Japanese as you are!" 

"You were born in Japan, Beth-chan. Maybe your parents were, too. But your ancestors came from Scotland." 

"What?" For a moment, the hurt in Beth's eyes became confusion. "No, my great-grandparents were from Dunedin." 

"Umm…" It was Nanako's turn to be confused. "Whatever. The point is—" 

"I know what your point is. You and Eitoku-kun and probably Iku-chan as well get to laugh at the poor little Claver who's too dumb to realise when she isn't wanted, that's what the point is." 

"None of us is laughing at you, Beth-chan," Nanako said. "And you're not unwanted. I swear. We're your friends. I—" She paused, realising how that must sound. "I know you may not believe that right now," she continued after a moment. "But I promise you—" 

"Friends?" Beth's face twisted into a crooked, humourless smile. "'With friends like these…'" she quoted. "Good-bye, Nanako…san. I'll see you around." 

She walked into school. 

- - -

Eitoku arrived a few minutes later, and found Nanako still standing there. "Has she—" he began, then broke off as she nodded. "How did it go?" he asked. 

"Not as well as I'd hoped," said Nanako morosely. "She wasn't happy." 

"Did you really expect her to be?" 

"If I could just make her see…but she didn't want to see. She got really upset when I told her you don't think much of Clavers." 

"You what?" Eitoku stared at her. "What are you talking about? I'm not prejudiced—" 

Nanako poked an elbow into his ribs, not gently. "Dummy. Of course you're prejudiced. And we can't have that in a would-be politician, can we?" She poked out her tongue at him. "You do hide it fairly well most of the time; I'll give you that." 

"I do not—" 

"Oh, stop. You could stand to open your eyes once in a while too, you know." 

He was silent for a little. "I was never really sure why you picked her up in the first place," he said at last. "Or Iku-san, for that matter." 

Nanako frowned. "You don't approve of my friends?" she asked dangerously. 

"It's not that. It's just…everyone always kept well away from Iku-san. And Beth-san was a loner too. But you…you were one of the most popular girls in the class, once, until you started letting them hang around." 

"That's _why_ I let them hang around," Nanako said icily. "_Because_ everyone always kept well away from them." 

"I…" He trailed off, his eyes widening. "Really?" 

"Yes." Her voice was flat, emotionless. Inside, she felt so angry that she wanted to hit him. "I might say the same thing about you, as well, Shiomi Eitoku, though you were never quite as isolated as Iku-chan. Now, are there any more personal confessions you want to hear, or is this discussion at an end?" 

He swallowed hard, still staring at her. "I…I'm sorry." 

"Good," she said, and turned her back on him and started to walk away. 

"Wait!" he shouted. She heard him run after her, felt his hand on her arm. "Is that why you—is that all I am to you, then?" he demanded. "You felt sorry for me? Is that all?" 

There was real fear in his voice; and at the sound of it, her anger began to ebb. She stopped, letting him catch up, while she tried to puzzle out what answer to give him. 

"No," she said at last. Her voice sounded oddly distant in her ears. "That's not all. Maybe…maybe at first, but not any more. Not for a long time now." 

"Oh," he said. There was relief in his tone, swiftly hidden. "Don't go making me worried, Nana-chan." 

"Yeah, yeah. Your fragile male ego can't take it, I know." Nanako looked over to the school building, ignoring his outraged snort, then shook her head to clear it. "Whatever. Look…we need to get a move on, or we'll be late." 

She bent down to pick up her satchel. As she straightened again, she noticed a patch of white on his left forearm: a dressing of some kind. "What have you been doing to yourself now?" she asked wearily. 

"Hmm?" He followed her gaze. "Oh. It's nothing; just a scratch. Got it yesterday." Impatiently, he waved her on through the gate. "Come on; if we're going, let's go!" 

"Right. Okay." Lost in thought, she followed him in to class. 

- - - - - - -  
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McCrea Helen finished drying the last plate and put it away briskly. A quick glance up at the clock; it was a little after nine, and the morning was still cool. She had time to get in a bit of serious work in the garden before she had to shower and leave for work at eleven. 

She hung up her apron and changed quickly into a pair of old, sturdy trousers. A pair of canvas shoes, just as old, were in the cupboard with her tools. She stepped outside, closing the back door behind her, and was just starting down the path when she heard it. 

Voices? 

She looked back, puzzled. There was only the distant noise of traffic, and nearby, a pair of sparrows chirping to each other. Then it came again: muffled voices; and a moment later, a snatch of music. 

She returned to the back door and pressed her ear to it. The voices became clearer. Someone was talking inside her house. 

Silently, she eased the door open. The sound became clearer; and an instant later, she recognised it. The viddy was on. It had definitely not been going when she left the house. 

Frowning thoughtfully, Helen stepped back inside. Soundlessly, she slipped her shoes off and started toward the living room. 

A few steps short of the living room door, a floor-board creaked beneath her foot. She thought she heard a sudden scuffling sound from the living room. Abandoning her effort to keep quiet, she burst in. 

The viddy was playing to an almost empty room. On the floor in front of it, in the middle of a patch of sunlight coming through the east window, lay her daughter Beth's cat, sprawled out and apparently asleep. The viddy control was on the floor a few centimetres away, right where it could have been accidentally stepped on. 

It _could_ have been an accident. 

Helen picked up the control and turned the viddy off. "Silly cat," she murmured aloud, shaking her head with a smile. She put the control on a shelf, well out of reach, and went back outside to do the gardening. 

Once she was outside, and the door safely closed, her smile widened. "Silly cat," she repeated. 

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Captain Hiiro opened the office door and walked in, uninvited. Two men looked up sharply as he entered. One of them, seated behind a broad wooden desk, was the owner of the office. The other, who was standing, made as if to protest at the interruption. Hiiro ignored the protest, took him by the arm, and propelled him gently out the door, closing it behind him. Then he turned to face the man at the desk. 

"All right," he said. "Talk." 

Colonel Shiro raised a bushy, imperturbable eyebrow. "'Good morning, Colonel,'" he said ironically. "'Nice to see you. How have you been?'" 

Hiiro's expression did not change. "Talk," he repeated. 

"Oh, get off your high horse," Shiro told him. "And sit down. I won't have you towering over me." Hiiro glared at him, then obeyed. "That's better. I expected a little more professionalism from you, Captain." 

For a few seconds, Hiiro only stared at him. Then, unwillingly, his lips twitched. "'Good morning, Colonel. Nice to see you. How have you been?'" 

"Why, thank you, Captain. It's nice to see you, too. And since you asked…" Shiro sat back and scowled. "I've been up to my neck in it, that's how. This is a real hornets' nest you've knocked over this time, Hiiro." 

"Sorry." 

"Yes, I'm sure. Well, now we know why we were hunting cats, eh? And if you thought that secret was well-protected, I assure you it's nothing compared to the security clamp that came down on your _latest_ little revelation." 

"Surprise, surprise." Hiiro scowled. "What have they decided, then?" 

The colonel picked up a piece of paper from his desk and glanced at it for a second. "Official word from Number Three," he explained sourly. "Effective immediately, the cat-search is cancelled. Sorry, did you say something?" 

Snort. "No." 

"Very restrained of you. Let me see, now…'Since the cat we were searching for has unexpectedly turned out to be a Moon Cat, we are of course halting the search. 'S' Division would never dream of interfering with the Senshi or their allies.'" Shiro laid the paper back down with a scowl that matched Hiiro's. "In a pig's eye. 

"Nevertheless, Captain, you and your team are to remain on duty. These are my orders, not Number Three's. Keep an eye on the Olympus…but from a distance. No more inside work. Absolutely no contact with the occupants. You understand me?" 

"I…think so." 

"Something's not right here. The search would never have been ordered in the first place if someone didn't have a pretty clear idea of what they were after. And then there's this…" Another piece of paper. "Sailor Mars was seen in a battle at a music store last Thursday, but the eye-witness descriptions don't match Hino Rei…or Pappadopoulos Itsuko. That may not mean anything, of course." He shrugged. "And then there's your surveillance recordings. Have you found out yet how they were erased?" 

"No." Hiiro rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I've sent my EE specialist home to get some rest; she'd been working for over fifty hours straight. Captain Kuroi has taken a look at things, but he says it's pretty clean; no obvious sign of how it was done." 

"Mm. Probably better to keep him away until your specialist is back." 

"That's what he said, too." 

Shiro nodded slowly. "Speaking of EE…that was pretty sharp work, spotting Hino's cover. Lieutenant…Mitsukai, is it? You might want to put her in for a commendation." 

"I've been thinking about that, yes." 

"Good. Hiiro…" The colonel looked at him for a few seconds. "This is a real mess, I don't have to tell you that. Nobody knows how to handle it. Everything's up in the air, and I don't know which way the division's going to jump. It'll probably go up to the Council, if it hasn't already. In the meantime, all we can do is stand ready. You understand?" Hiiro nodded. "That Irregular of yours…what's his name…" 

"Kitada." 

"Yes. Keep hold of him. It could be that we really will back down and let the Senshi keep doing…what it is they do. But I have my doubts. And I want you and your team prepared…just in case." 

Hiiro nodded, his anger of a few minutes before forgotten. Like Shiro, he had his own doubts. He trusted Shiro, though, all the way; the old man was always square with his people, and in 'S' Division that was more valuable than gold. He should not have forgotten that. 

"Very well, then. You'd better get moving," the colonel said, adding, "Oh…on your way out, you can let my ADC back in, please." 

"Right." Hiiro got up, repressing a grin, and headed for the door. Half-way there, he paused. "Your ADC? But I thought Lieutenant Midori is your—" 

Colonel Shiro's face froze. "Lieutenant Midori," he said, "is on medical leave. That will be all, Captain." 

Hiiro took the hint and left, not forgetting to send the new ADC in as he went. His mind was on other things, though. Only moments before, he had been thinking that the colonel was always straight. But now… 

_Medical leave, right. In a pig's eye._

- - -

Less than a kilometre away, Lieutenant Midori Koji sat in a small, dingy hotel room. He wore only a pair of trousers. His body and his hair were greasy; his face was unshaven. The blinds were drawn. 

He was flipping rapidly through a women's magazine. He muttered to himself under his breath as he did so. He had been doing this for some time now: sometimes speaking out loud, or even singing. The sound was soothing, like a blanket of white noise. It seemed to help him think; or perhaps (it had occurred to him once, long ago) it helped him not to think. He had never noticed when the words had degenerated into a constant drone of meaningless, random gibberish. 

Finishing the magazine, he tossed it aside and picked up another. The pile of discarded magazines was quite large, but he no longer noticed that, either. He began to flip through the new one, glancing at each page as he went. 

Half-way through, he froze as he came to a photograph of a woman. He stared at it for several seconds. Then, his hands shaking a little, he tore the picture out and held it up to the light. His breathing quickened. 

He picked up a marker pen and coloured her hair in green. 

"Yes," he whispered. "Oh, yes." 

There was a box of thumb-tacks on the desk, half-empty. He took a couple and carefully pinned the picture to the wall. Then, stepping back a pace, he surveyed the result. 

The wall was lined with pictures, hundreds of them: a sea of women, all of them tall and slender and dark-skinned. Every one of them had long hair, raggedly coloured-in green. 

"Soon," he promised them. "I'll find you." 

He turned away from the pictures and went to the window. A telescope was standing there, aimed at the street below through a gap in the blinds. He set his eye to the lens, adjusted the focus, and began to watch patiently. 

He would find her yet. Maybe then he would be able to remember why he was looking for her. 

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Lunch-time arrived. Nanako, Eitoku and Iku sat in their usual spot for the entire break, eating their lunches and talking quietly. Iku even unbent so much as to join in a few times. 

Nanako was jumpy. Every time anyone came near the group she started to get up, a smile on her face and a welcome on the tip of her tongue—only to sink down again, the greeting unsaid, when the face was that of a stranger. 

Beth never showed up. 

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The afternoon passed as slowly as Monday afternoons at school always do. When the final class let out at last, Dhiti hung back, staring at the math test results on the desk in front of her. 

She'd gotten a 'B', which was fine. The teacher's comment written below the grade was not. 

All right, so she hadn't studied. But she'd taken a couple of minutes during lunch break to flip through the last couple of chapters of the textbook, and her memory was good. She'd done okay, so what was the problem? 

It wasn't as if she needed to knock herself out studying. She'd still have passed if she hadn't bothered. A 'B' was good enough. Most of her classes were boring, so why make an effort? She always aced history, but the rest just weren't worth the trouble. 

But there was that note on her test paper. Most of the teachers didn't bother any more. The note said, "Disappointing, as always." It annoyed Dhiti. 

It was obvious what Ihara-sensei was trying to do. She was trying to goad Dhiti into applying herself. That was okay, too; better teachers than her had tried it, to no avail. All the same…it rankled. Dhiti did not like to be called a failure. Especially when she had not failed; she had done exactly as well as she'd intended to do. 

Still…it rankled. 

Annoyed at herself for being annoyed, she stuffed the paper into her satchel and trudged outside. She stomped around there for a while, looking for something to take her mind off the test. 

Eventually she ran into Miyo. That would do, she decided. 

"Yo, Hayashi," she called. "You busy?" 

Miyo had been watching some of the boys playing basketball out in the fields. At the sound of Dhiti's voice she jumped, then relaxed. "No," she said firmly. "What's up, Dhiti-chan?" 

"Oh, nothing." Dhiti stepped closer and said in a low voice, "About this morning. Did Itsuko-san find out anything more about…you know?" 

"About—? Oh." Miyo shook her head, then glanced around quickly. "Not before I had to leave for school. Come on, Dhiti-chan, you think I won't let you know as soon as we find out anything?" 

"Huh. You're not the one who's going to have to deal with a cranky cat tonight, Hayashi. You're not the one who's going to have to explain this to my mother, either. Or my father." 

Miyo suppressed a grin. "Now that, I don't envy you." She glanced around at the field again. 

"Yeah. Thanks." Dhiti eyed her, puzzled, and then realised that Miyo was keeping an eye out for Mark. It was almost too much. Was she that set on avoiding him? Damn it, he had apologised! Wouldn't she ever forgive him? 

And then another thought came to her. In a sudden, delicious moment, she realised that Miyo was not trying to avoid Mark at all. She was trying to find him, and make it seem like an accident. 

Best of all, she was fairly sure that Miyo didn't realise what she was doing. 

"There has to be a way I can use this," she muttered. 

"Use what?" asked Miyo suspiciously. 

"Oh. Sorry, Hayashi. Talking to myself." Dhiti gave her a superior smile. "Sometimes I feel the need for intelligent conversation." 

"So did you just hunt me up to insult me, or was there something else?" 

"Oh, Hayashi. Don't be silly. Insulting you is what makes my life worth living. You know that." She did the smile again; then, before Miyo could start to take offence, she added, "Actually, I was thinking we could go downtown. You know, hang out. Eat junk food. Window-shop. That kind of stuff." 

Miyo stared at her. Then she reached out a hand to touch Dhiti's forehead. "You don't have a temperature. Are you feeling well?" 

Knocking the hand away in irritation, Dhiti said, "Believe it or not, I do do normal things sometimes." 

"No, you don't. What is this, a setup for some kind of practical joke?" Miyo blinked suddenly. "Wait a minute. You're looking for an excuse so you don't have to go home and deal with Artemis!" 

"I—" That was actually a terrific idea, and Dhiti was sorry that she hadn't thought of it herself. "I am not," she denied automatically. "I was thinking that we could pick up some of the others. It might be fun." 

"The others?" Miyo looked blank. 

Dhiti gave a long-suffering sigh. "Beth-chan. Suzue-san. Iku-chan. Remember them?" 

"Oh!" The other girl had the grace to look abashed for a moment. "Actually, that _is_ a good idea. Sure, why not? It'd be nice to have some…you know. Just regular girl time." 

"You don't say?" said a voice. Dhiti looked around, startled, to see Kin standing behind them, smiling innocently. She had just enough time to think, _Uh-oh._

"All right, I'm game," the golden-haired girl said brightly. "So where are we going?" 

"Um—" Miyo began. 

Dhiti thought fast. "Downtown," she said firmly. "There are ice-cream parlours in this city that I do not feel we have sufficiently terrorised. This needs to change, and you are just the girl to help us do it, Kin-chan." 

"Well, I wouldn't want an ice-cream parlour to feel left out," Kin mused. "Lead on, kemo sabe! You're paying, right?" 

"Absolutely." Dhiti could feel Miyo's eyes on her. She ignored them. A more immediate concern was the state of her purse. "Um, we may have to rob a few small banks on the way, if you don't mind." 

"Umm. How about some _larger_ banks? There's a pair of shoes I've been looking at—sober, dignified ones, with 'Okamura Kin' spelled out in flashing lights on the toes—and I thought—" 

"A mere trifle. Say no more. Actually, you couldn't have picked a better time for it. For we have with us none other than 'Iron Teeth' Hayashi, the world-renowned master criminal and safecracker! With her on our side, how can we fail?" 

"I'm sure we can find a way, if we try hard enough," muttered Miyo. 

"Pish to this defeatist attitude! We have the strength of ten, for our hearts are black." 

"You know, that isn't how that saying actually goes," pointed out Kin. 

"It isn't? Well, I'm sure my way is better." 

"Of course it is!" Kin fell to her knees before Dhiti, and raised shining eyes in adoration. "Teach us, Master Dhiti! Pour out your great wisdom upon us!" 

"Wisdom?" Dhiti blinked. "Hrm. All right." She spread her arms wide, lifting her hands in a benedictory pose, and intoned, "Eat your greens. Brush your teeth before bed. And…be excellent to one another." 

Miyo and Kin looked at each other. 

"Words to live by," mused Kin. 

"Hey, don't knock it," Dhiti protested. "These are deep philosophical truths. Tell her, Hayashi." 

"Don't mind me," said Miyo. "I'm only a master criminal and safecracker." 

"Aha! A touch, a touch, I do confess." Dhiti raised an imaginary foil in salute. "So, would the evil genius care to accompany us to the vanquishing of sundry sordid ice-cream parlours?" 

Miyo considered. "It could be arranged," she admitted. 

"Let's go!" Kin cheered. She tucked her hands behind her back and began an almost elfin saunter toward the school gates. As she went, she paused to say over her shoulder, "I assume we're picking up our friends on the way?" 

"Friends?" asked Miyo. 

Dhiti stifled a curse. 

"Mm," said Kin. "These other girls you were talking about before. Beth, Suzue and…I forget. Funny thing; I didn't quite recognise the names." She cocked an eyebrow. "Not," she added lightly, "that I am for a moment implying that you were avoiding me, or planning to leave me out of things, or anything like that. I was just wondering. That's all." 

"Actually," said Dhiti after a pause, "there's no reason—" 

"Kin! Kin-chan!" came a voice from off to one side. They looked about to see Liam, waving a hand in the air. He started toward them at an easy lope. 

Kin watched him for a moment, then snorted and glanced back at Dhiti and Miyo. "Saved by the bell, huh?" she said. 

"Kin-chan—" began Miyo. 

"I'd better see what he wants," Kin said. "Another time on the ice cream, Dhiti-chan. Seeya, Miyo-chan. Try and think of a good story, will you?" 

She jogged over to meet Liam, not looking back. Dhiti and Miyo saw the two of them talk for a minute or two. Then Kin slipped an arm through Liam's, and they walked away in the opposite direction. 

"Weren't they fighting about something?" asked Miyo absently. 

"I guess they made up." Dhiti bit her lip, then said, "I think we're going to have a problem with her." 

"Yeah. Damn it!" Miyo swore suddenly. "Damn it all! Why didn't I see this coming? I must be going round with my eyes closed! I ought to have—" 

Dhiti touched her arm, cutting her off. "Look, don't get so upset," she said. "All right, so Kin-chan's noticed we're not telling her things. But she isn't mad about it. We've just got to think of…a good story." 

"She's not mad about it _yet_," Miyo corrected her. "You really think she won't be watching us now, though? Damn it, this…no. I won't allow this. I won't let it happen. She is not going to become another Naru." 

"Another…" Dhiti frowned. "Who's Naru?" 

Miyo gave her a bleak look. "Someone I used to know. A long time ago." 

"…Right." Dhiti hummed tunelessly under her breath for a second. "Okay, then, we're not going to let that happen. Whatever it is. So what _are_ you planning to tell Kin-chan? The truth?" 

"Don't be ridiculous." 

"Well, why not, anyway? Okay, okay, you don't have to glare like that. Sheesh, Hayashi. So we'll think of a story to tell her, and she'll probably pretend to believe it, and then everything'll be fine, except that Kin-chan won't trust us any more. _That_ certainly sounds good." 

"What," said Miyo icily, "would you suggest, then?" 

"Introduce her to the others, of course." 

"What!" 

"Oh, come on. We don't have to tell her the truth, if you're so set against it. Say you met them at the Olympus, or something. That's almost true anyway. Take everyone out for ice cream or a movie. The chances are, Kin-chan won't think twice when she hears their names after that." 

Unbidden, a sudden mental image of Kin meeting Iku came to Dhiti's mind. The idea made her grin. There was something about the shy girl, and the shell she had built around herself, that fascinated Dhiti. She wanted to crack that shell and see what was inside; and Kin might just be a perfect nut-cracker. 

Miyo considered the suggestion. "That might work," she admitted reluctantly. "Why didn't you suggest it before, while she was still here?" 

"I was busy getting my nails done. Come on, Hayashi, why do you think? I had other things on my mind." 

"Okay, okay. Sorry." Miyo had the grace to look slightly abashed. After a minute she said, more quietly, "Do you really think this is a good idea?" 

"Dunno." Dhiti winked at her. "I expect we'll find out soon enough. Why don't you talk it over with Itsuko-san? See what the wisdom of the ages has to offer." 

"Say that to her face. I dare you." 

"Ummm. Maybe not." 

"Ha! Dhiti-chan backs down! This is a day to live in history!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Yock it up, Hayashi, enjoy it while it lasts. All the same—" Dhiti became serious for a moment. "You will talk to Itsuko-san, right?" 

"Of course I will—" Miyo stared at her, and began to smile. "You're actually concerned, aren't you? You don't want Kin-chan to get hurt." 

"Oh…don't get mushy on me. You always read too much into this stuff, you know?" 

"Uh-huh. After all, we can't have people thinking you're nice." 

"Nice?" said Dhiti indignantly. "What are you talking about? Babies for breakfast, that's me. Sometimes twice a day!" 

"Right. Silly me. You'd never do something like…say, breaking into someone's house to steal her stuff and bring it to her." 

"Never! I mean—well…that's not fair, Hayashi." 

"Mm. I guess I'm not being very nice, am I?" 

"Look, let's just change the subject, okay?" Dhiti had a nasty feeling that she was somehow on the losing end of the exchange; and that was clearly impossible. She cast about furiously for a way out. Stealing things, house-breaking— 

Then she did think of something, and immediately wished she hadn't. 

She had done her best to forget about it, days since; and in the end she had very nearly succeeded. Now, a chance comment brought it back. The timing could hardly have been worse. 

She schooled her expression, but Miyo could be pretty quick at these things sometimes, considering. "What is it?" the tall girl asked. 

"Oh…nothing. Just a wild thought." 

"Dhiti-chan—" 

"Look, it's—" Dhiti made the mistake of looking up, and found herself staring straight into Miyo's eyes. She saw the concern there; and something else. The trust. The trust made it all the harder. 

It had been just a few days before. The night she broke into Miyo's house; she had been asked to deliver a message. She had promised to do it—promised the girl's own brother. 

And she had lied. 

She had thought about it, the following day; about her friend, and all the pain in her life; and the source of that pain. She thought about it all…and decided that Miyo was better off not knowing this. Quite coldly and deliberately, she kept it to herself. 

It was all for the best, it really was. But looking into her friend's eyes, Dhiti thought again about promises. And about trust. 

She wanted to curse out loud. This was going to kill Miyo. 

"I…have a message for you," she said uncomfortably. "I meant to pass it on, but I kept forgetting until now. It's from—" 

She took a deep breath. Best to just spit it out, perhaps. 

"It's from your brother, Fujimaro." She saw Miyo flinch, and carried on in a rush. "He said…he said a lot of things. He said he doesn't care what your father says. He said he just wants his sister back. He wants to meet you." 

Miyo's face was frozen, but nothing could hide the shock and sudden pain in her eyes. "When was this?" she asked. 

"Last Wednesday. Um. Sorry about the delay." 

Miyo did not reply for some time. Her eyes were closed, her expression taut. Dhiti tried to imagine what she must be thinking, and found herself mentally shying away from the idea. At last, when she had begun to wonder if her friend would ever speak again, Miyo said quietly, "All right." 

"Uh—'All right'? That's all?" 

"Isn't that enough?" Miyo gave her a bleak look. "Unless there are any more little messages you'd like to give me." 

"…Right." She had gone too far, Dhiti realised. She tried to think of a way to apologise, but all that came to mind was, "Sorry." And even Dhiti could see how hopelessly inadequate that was. 

"Go home, Dhiti-chan." 

"I—yeah." She hesitated for one moment more. Then, defeated, she turned to leave. At the last moment something made her look back and ask, "Will you meet him?" 

Miyo looked up at her words, but her eyes were fixed on something far away. "How should I know?" she said. 

Dhiti nodded shortly and headed for home. Her math results no longer bothered her at all. 

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"So," said Minoru. "How did your lesson go on Saturday?" 

"Pretty well, thanks," said Suzue. 

Hama Minoru was tall, dark-haired and lanky. He had an easy, cheerful grin and a face that people trusted. He was popular in class. He was intelligent. And somehow, none of these seemed to matter very much when he was with Itagaki Suzue. 

He had known her for three years now, at least as well as anyone knew her. They had started out as simple acquaintances, and slowly drifted into something more. Finally, a few months ago, he'd worked up the nerve to ask her out, and she had given one of her rare smiles and said yes. 

The two of them had been going out regularly since then. They were playing it very casual; they did not call it 'dating,' they did not talk about love, and they had not kissed yet. But she did not object when, from time to time, he took her hand. 

School was out and the two of them were wandering aimlessly down a narrow, tree-lined lane. Nobody else was in sight, and Minoru was thinking that before they reached the end of the street, he might dare putting an arm around her shoulder. Not just yet, though. For now, walking with her was enough. 

"I had Ashida-san this time, and she's a lot better than my last instructor," Suzue went on. 

One thing was certain: he could never find her boring. In some ways, he occasionally thought, she was like an onion. However much he learned about her, there was always another layer below, some deeper level that she kept hidden. Her religion was one of the outer layers, or the way she made her own clothes. But who would have guessed that, beneath that, she was a passionate bridge player? And that was nothing compared to his surprise when he'd learned how she spent her Saturday afternoons. 

"How long until you solo, now?" he asked. 

Suzue shrugged. "It varies. Probably another four or five hours flying time. After I solo…another thirty hours or so, until I can get my private pilot's license." 

He shook his head, chuckling. "Suzue-chan, the airline pilot. Hard to believe." 

"Well, the airline transport license is a little further down the road," she said dryly. Then: "Why is it hard to believe?" 

"Uh—" There was no anger in her voice. Nonetheless, he realised he had better pick his words carefully. "You don't even like the outdoors much," he said. "It just…seems odd that you'd like…" Running out of inspiration, he waved a hand upward. 

"But it's not the same thing at all," Suzue protested. 

"I suppose," he said, not sure that he agreed. "Anyway, you have to admit it is kind of…unusual. I always thought you'd be, you know, a fashion designer or something." 

"I've thought about it," she acknowledged. "I do like making my own clothes. But Minoru-kun, you like playing baseball. Does that mean you want to be a professional athlete?" 

"I guess not," he admitted. "But—" 

"So." She shifted her school satchel from one hand to the other, her expression softening. "I like to fly, too. I may make a career of it, or I may not. Either way…" Her eyes almost seemed to glow for an instant. "It's worth it. When I have my license, I'll take you up one day, Minoru-kun. Then you'll see. There's nothing like it." 

He grinned in reply. "Sounds like fun," he said. "It's a date." 

He realised, a moment too late, what he had said, and nearly bit his tongue; but she merely raised an eyebrow, then nodded. 

They walked on in silence for a minute. After a little he said, "You're more cheerful today, at least. Did you manage to work things out with your friend?" 

Suzue did not answer at once, and he wondered if he had made another mistake. She had seemed a little distant lately; last week, especially, she had been upset about something. When he'd asked, she had grudgingly admitted to an argument with a friend; but it did not take a genius to see that there was more to it than she was saying. 

After a little she said slowly, "We…reached an understanding, I think." 

"Oh." Minoru considered this. "Not the sort of understanding that involves pistols at dawn, I hope?" 

"What?" Suzue looked at him, confused, before realising he was joking and looking away again. "Don't be silly." He suppressed a grin. Suzue was one of those unfortunate people who simply had no sense of humour. 

"I might have to do some research," she went on thoughtfully. 

"Research?" he repeated, startled. "Why?" 

"For the argument." Suzue cocked her head to one side. "Although I suppose you could say it's become more of a debate, really." 

"Good grief." He had a mental image of Suzue in a debate and had to shake his head. Whoever this friend was, he or she was in for trouble. Minoru had never known Suzue to give up at anything. "What's this…debate about, then?" 

"Mm. Kind of a philosophical point, actually." She pursed her lips for a moment, then said, "So how was _your_ weekend?" 

She didn't want to discuss it, and she wouldn't give up at that, either; he knew from experience. He decided to give in gracefully. "Not bad. We won our game yesterday." It hadn't exactly been one of high school baseball's finest moments; but a win was a win. "I tried to call you, but you weren't home." 

She stiffened: almost imperceptibly, but he happened to catch it. Her pace did not quite falter, but there was a momentary pause before she went on. And something swam across her face: an expression that he could not identify. Not guilt, but perhaps something close to it. 

"I was out with some people I met recently," she said steadily. Her tone was so natural that he wondered if he had imagined it. "Sorry; I should have let you know." 

"It's okay," he said. The only answer he could give, of course. Inwardly, he started to wonder. Suzue did not make friends easily. "Where did you go?" he asked curiously. 

"Oh, nowhere in particular. I'm sorry I missed your game." She started to ask him questions about how it had gone, and before long he found himself describing the game in detail. It wasn't a bad way of spending time with a girl. 

Later that afternoon, he did finally work up the nerve to put his arm around her. She didn't seem to mind. She even snuggled closer and rested her head on his shoulder for a few moments. So ended a perfect day. 

…Well, nearly perfect. After they parted, he stood for a while, watching her walk away. She was worth watching; but there was more than the movement of her hips on his mind. More even than the memory of her head on his shoulder. 

She had distracted him very well, and he had to admit that he had been willing to be distracted. But Suzue had never shown so much interest in baseball before. And she'd been oddly reluctant to talk about what she had been doing on Sunday. 

Could it have been something to do with her church, perhaps? He knew about her beliefs, of course—with the amount of teasing and general bullying she took from the other students, it would have been impossible to miss. He did not share those beliefs, but he wasn't about to mock her for them either. That had been one of the reasons they'd first gotten together, actually. 

No, he decided; it couldn't be a church matter. If it had been, she wouldn't hesitate to say so. She wouldn't try to pass the matter off as unimportant, and then spend the rest of the afternoon distracting him from asking further. Whatever was bothering her, it was something he wasn't supposed to know about. 

Tantalising, that. 

He thought about talking to Shoda Keiko about it. She and Suzue were best friends, and Keiko would know what was going on if anybody did. If not, he could always try keeping a surreptitious eye on Suzue next weekend, to see if she— 

At that point, he realised what he was planning. 

He shook his head in disgust. What was the _matter_ with him? Had he actually been planning to spy on his girlfriend? 

He started for home, shaking his head in disgust. If Suzue didn't want to talk about something, well, she had the right. The least he would do was trust her! 

After all, it would be a hell of a world if people couldn't trust each other. 

- - - - - - -  
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"So," said Liam hopefully, "does this mean you've forgiven me?" 

Kin sniffed. "Don't get your hopes up," she said. 

He looked down at her arm, which was linked through his, and decided not to push the matter. "So what was that with Miyo-san and Dhiti-san?" he asked instead. "You looked like you were having some kind of fight there." 

"Nothing," she said. "And we were not having a fight. We were just…discussing things." 

"Okay, okay," he replied, waving his free hand placatingly. "No fights. Heaven forefend. Why, I remember some of the discussions I used to have with the lads back in Kilkenny. We were grand ones for discussions, me and the lads." 

"Will you quit it?" she snapped. "We were planning a bank robbery, if you must know." 

"Oh!" He considered this. "Well, and that's a bigger discussion than I was thinking." 

"I bet," she said grumpily. 

They walked in silence for a minute, passing behind the main school building and heading for the rear gate. At last Kin sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I just…don't know what to do." 

"About what?" His voice was gentle. 

"Miyo-chan and Dhiti-chan," she admitted. "I think they're avoiding me for some reason. And they've got some kind of secret they don't want to tell me." 

Liam thought about this as they walked. "Secrets," he said slowly. "That's a hard thing, sure enough. Do you trust them?" 

"Of course I—!" Kin broke off. "I think so," she went on, more subdued. 

"But?" he prompted her. 

"Well…they were planning something. And talking about a whole bunch of girls I've never heard of. And the last two weekends in a row, I haven't been able to get hold of them, but Dhiti-chan's mother thought they were with _me_…" 

"You know how Dhiti-san is, though," Liam pointed out. "She and her schemes and make-believes." 

Kin grimaced. "I suppose so," she said. "But today…I saw Miyo-chan's face. It wasn't just playing today." 

"So, follow them. Find out what they're up to." 

"I can't do that!" 

"Why not?" he insisted. 

"Because…" Kin had to stop to think. "Because they're my friends," she said at last. "And if I do that…then maybe _I'm_ not _their_ friend." 

"So." Liam nodded. "As I said: do you trust them?" 

Kin did not answer. 

"You do realise that there's probably some perfectly obvious explanation for it all, don't you?" 

"Like what?" she demanded. 

"Hmm. Is your birthday coming up?" 

"No, that's not until—" Kin broke off and glared at him. "Nice try, buster. I'm _still_ not telling you when it is." 

Liam grinned back at her. "Wasn't even thinking of that," he said. "Honestly. They could have been planning some kind of surprise." 

"Well, it's not that," she grumbled. "Anyway, Miyo-chan looked so…so guilty." 

"I could ask Mark for you, if you want," he offered. "He might have some idea." 

"No!" she said, looking horrified. "I don't want everyone in the school to know about this!" 

For the first time, Liam frowned at her. "Believe it or not," he said, "Mark is not, in fact, a gossip." 

"I'm sorry," she admitted, instantly contrite. "It's just, after what happened with Miyo-chan…well, you know. Look, forget it, okay? It'll probably turn out to be nothing. I'll pin Dhiti-chan down tomorrow and get the story out of her." 

"The idea of _anyone_ managing to pin Dhiti-san down—" 

"Will you knock it off?" 

"All right, all right." Liam lifted his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Let's change the subject. Do you want to go for an ice cream, or something?" 

Kin blinked. "Everyone tries to bribe me with ice cream," she said plaintively. "You're all trying to make me fat." After a moment, though, she gave him a twisted grin. "All right, buster, let's go. You'd just better have a full wallet, though." 

"Why does this always happen?" he asked the world philosophically as she dragged him away. 

So there was ice cream, and laughter. They made jokes; they discussed their respective days at school. They compared dreams, and daydreams. They took a leisurely stroll through the nearby mall, pretending to window-shop but actually paying far more attention to each other than the window displays. For a time, secrets were forgotten. 

Later, on their way home, they walked through Tomoe Park, arms wrapped about each other, talking idly about anything and nothing. The park was ruddy with the setting sun. And as they meandered down the narrow path through the trees in the centre of the park, they realised suddenly that they were alone. There were distant voices from the playing field, some way off, but here among the trees there was only the two of them. 

Slowly, hardly daring to move but unable to help himself, hardly daring even to breathe, Liam looked down at Kin. She was staring back up at him. Her eyes in the fading light were enormous. 

Then, somehow, they were together; and their first kiss was everything that a first kiss should be. 

They stood together for a while longer, as the evening deepened around them. Suddenly shy, they drew apart a little, and walked on, sneaking glances at each other and smiling. After a little, Kin reached out silently and took Liam's hand. 

There was a park bench nearby. They sat down, and kissed again. 

Later still, they sat together, Kin leaning back against Liam, his arms wrapped securely around her. It was nearly eight o'clock. Now and then people would pass them, smile, and walk on. 

After the fervour of a little earlier, Liam felt relaxed and peaceful. The trust and the warmth of the body in his arms; the gentle movement of her chest as she breathed; the scent of her hair in his nostrils…so ended a perfect day. He could have sat there, murmuring affectionate nothings in her ear, forever. 

And then she stiffened in his arms, and pulled away from him. "There you go again," she said. 

At first, still sunk in a pleasant daze, he did not quite realise what had happened. He automatically reached for her to draw her in again. 

She slapped his hands away. He stared at her. 

"Why don't you just go join the Loonies?" she demanded. "They've probably got a place for people like you." 

"What?" he said, stupefied. "What?" 

"I'm not some puppet for you to play with, you know." She stood up sharply, staring down at him for a second. There was a curious mixture of anger and regret in her eyes. "Isn't it time you grew up a little?" she said softly. Then she turned and walked away. 

"Grew—? Kin-chan, what are you—Wait! Wait!" Liam scrambled up and dashed after her. But when he caught up and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, she only shrugged it off. 

"Go home, Keenan-san," she said coolly. She did not look up at him again. "Good night." And she walked on. 

"What are you talking about?" he shouted after her. "I didn't _do_ anything! This is crazy!" He started after her once more; he saw her stiffen at the sound of his footsteps. Abruptly he realised that there were other people in the park staring at him. 

He turned sharply and went home. 

Later that evening he called Mark, and the two of them spoke for some time. Something was obviously bothering Kin; and the most obvious explanation was that it was something to do with Miyo and Dhiti, and the secret Kin claimed they had. It took little encouragement for Mark to agree to talk to Dhiti the next day. Whatever was going on, they would get to the bottom of it. 

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Dhiti got home at half past eight. Her first evening class in ikebana had run a lot longer than she had expected. The class had been pretty interesting—she had never expected that there was so much to flower arranging—but she was fairly sure that she was going to drop the subject after another couple of weeks anyway. Still, you never knew. 

Her father looked up as she came in, shuffling into a pair of rather elderly house slippers. "Good evening, Father," she said warily. She and her father had a rather prickly relationship. Which was odd, because she was fairly sure that she got her sense of humour from his side of the family. 

To her relief, he said only, "Welcome home," and returned to his newspaper. She walked past him and started up the stairs to her room. Just as her foot touched the first step, he said, "I see that we now have a cat." 

Dhiti froze, looking around sharply. He had not even lifted his head from the newspaper. How did he always manage to do this to her? 

"Umm, yeah," she said. "Just temporarily, though. Probably." 

"You are minding it for a friend?" he said, in his clipped, precise way. 

"'Him,' not 'it,'" she answered, nettled. "And, yeah." 

"Just so." Her father turned another page, still not lifting his eyes. "That is kind of you, then." 

Dhiti waited, but he seemed to have finished. She turned once more and started upstairs—and again, as her foot touched the first step, he spoke, making her freeze in place. 

"This needy, cat-loving friend," he said. "This would be the Hayashi Miyo of whom we have been hearing such interesting things?" 

She turned back yet again, eyeing her father. "What sort of interesting things?" she asked cautiously. 

"Hmm. The grapevine has been quite active. Disowned by her parents, it appears, and possibly guilty of a remarkable variety of offences, from drugs and violent assault to theft and prostitution." He turned another page. "An impressive record, at her age." 

With difficulty, Dhiti kept her temper. Shouting at her father never helped. Besides, he— 

Wait a minute. Her father had _met_ Miyo, several times. They had taken an instant disliking to each other and remained coldly formal ever since, but he had to know Miyo better than this! Didn't he? 

"Yes," she said coolly. "He's Hayashi's cat." 

Did her father nod, just slightly? It was hard to tell. "You are loyal to your friend," he said. "That is good." 

"Damn right," Dhiti said. She waited a moment for him to make another sarcastic remark, but he still did not budge from his newspaper. She snorted, and started up the stairs. 

—And just as her foot touched the first step, he said, "I trust you have eaten?" Dhiti gave an yelp of frustration and sprinted up to her room. 

Her father smiled into his newspaper. 

- - -

Artemis let out a silent groan as he heard Dhiti elephanting up the stairs. "So, you finally made it home," he said as she came in. 

"Don't you start," Dhiti warned him. 

"Oh, don't mind me," he said testily. "I'm just a cat. I get traded from house to house whenever I become inconvenient, and then once I've been stuck somewhere nice and out of the way, I get to wait around for hours, wondering if something's happened to my latest…latest care-taker!" 

Dhiti stared at him. "You could have called me," she said. "I had my communicator." 

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just…hate this pass-the-pussy game. It makes me feel like…oh, I don't know. A child's toy. Having to stop people noticing who I am all the time. And being cooped up without knowing what's going on!" 

"I can leave the window open," Dhiti suggested. 

"Yeah. Thanks." He made an effort to relax. "Well. So how was _your_ day, then?" 

"Oh, the usual." Dhiti dropped her satchel in the corner and sat down on her bed. She suddenly looked tired. "A little fun; a little flower-arranging; a little abuse; piss your friends off; you know how it goes." 

He blinked. "I thought I did." 

"Never mind. It's nothing to do with you." She lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "Why do people have to be so complicated?" 

Artemis started to answer, then saw her face and realised she was serious. He paid her the compliment of taking her question seriously. "If they weren't, they wouldn't be people at all," he said at last. "They'd be robots." 

"Mnn." Dhiti considered this. "That doesn't really help." 

"The truth often doesn't." He eyed her curiously. "You yourself," he went on reflectively, "are a bundle of complications. I don't think I've ever seen you this serious before." 

Dhiti gave a short laugh. "I couldn't talk to Hayashi this way." 

"No? But she's supposed to be your friend. Why am I easier to talk to than she is?" 

"Because you're a cat." But Dhiti frowned. "No. That's the cheap-laugh version. It's too…facile." After a moment she said, "Maybe it's because you're _not_ my friend." 

"Thank you," the cat said dryly. Itsuko, he remembered, had had almost this same conversation with Beth, just yesterday. "Perhaps you need to re-evaluate what being a friend means. If you can't talk to her about things that are important to you, then how much of a friend is she? And how much are you?" 

"Yeah. I've thought about that," Dhiti admitted. "But it's still too simple an answer. Everyone has things they don't talk about, even to friends." 

"Certainly. Not everyone hides what they're really feeling behind quite as solid a mask as you do, though." 

Dhiti cracked a smile. "Iku-chan does." 

"Yes, and I'm more than a little concerned about that. But we were talking about you. You said you'd pissed off your friends. I assume you meant Miyo?" 

"…Yeah. Kin-chan too, actually. But Hayashi the worst." 

Artemis let the silence grow for a few seconds, wondering who Kin was. "What happened?" he asked at last. 

She turned her head to look directly at him. "Who was Naru?" she asked. 

"Na—? What brought _that_ up?" 

"Kin-chan. She's starting to notice that we're leaving her out of things. Hayashi got…kind of upset about it. She said she wouldn't let Kin-chan be another Naru." 

He debated with himself for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. "Osaka Naru was a friend of Tsukino Usagi," he said quietly. "Probably her best friend. But not even a footnote in the history books, it seems." He shook his head. "Anyway. Usagi became Sailor Moon, and naturally she started spending most of her time with the other Senshi. She and Naru grew…more distant." 

Dhiti grimaced. "Yeah. That does sound like the situation with Kin-chan." She fell silent, and for an instant Artemis hoped that she would let it lie. But then she said, "What happened?" 

He bit back a sigh. "The Senshi revealed their identities to the world. You may have heard what happened then…" 

"Mass hysteria. Media frenzy. Mobs invading the Hikawa Shrine." 

"Hmm. I suppose that's about right, as far as it goes. Well, after things settled down a little, Usagi went to see Naru to talk about it. She hadn't had a chance beforehand; the announcement was pretty rushed…no, never mind that. The point is, Naru wasn't there any more." 

"Why?" 

He shrugged. "Everyone at their school knew that she was Usagi's best friend. She got hit by the media too, before she'd even heard the news. They were pretty ruthless. Suddenly she had a dozen hacks asking her about her 'relationship' with Sailor Moon…and she didn't know Sailor Moon was Usagi until they told her." 

"Ouch." Dhiti made a face. "What did she do?" 

"By the time Usagi came, her mother had sent her to stay with relatives in Kyoto. She never came back. Usagi went down to visit her a few times, but…the damage was done. Later, when Crystal Tokyo was founded, Naru didn't come." 

Dhiti did not say anything for a long time. Downstairs, they heard a creak of floorboards and an almost inaudible rumble of speech as her parents moved about. 

"Would it have been so bad?" she asked finally. "If Tsukino-sama had told Naru what she was. If…if Hayashi and I told Kin-chan. Would that really be so bad?" 

"You saw what happened when Miyo's family found out," he said, his voice full of regret. 

"Yeah, but—" She shook her head. "The situations aren't the same. They aren't even close to the same!" 

"Perhaps." Artemis shook his head with a sigh. "I can't answer for you," he told her. "I can't tell you what to do. I've never even met this Kin. Just…ask yourself. How well can you trust her? What would she do, if you did tell her? Would she, _could_ she keep it to herself? Or would she want to try and get involved somehow? And if she did…could you keep her safe?" 

Dhiti stared back at him. 

"Whatever you decide," he urged her, "talk it over with Miyo first. Talk it over with all the others. This affects them too." 

"Hayashi's got her own problems to worry about," Dhiti said flatly. 

His eyes narrowed. "What now?" 

"Her brother wants to talk to her. Fujimaro." 

"Oh, dear." Artemis looked away for a moment. "Well, that could be a hopeful sign," he said cautiously. 

"Yeah, or it could tear her up worse." She sighed. "I suppose I should tell you that he, um, probably knows that I'm Mercury." 

"Ah." He refrained from cursing. He refrained from saying that it probably hadn't been very hard for Fujimaro to work it out. Instead he said mildly, "Well, then, you've got an extra incentive to decide what to do about Kin-san, haven't you?" 

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Tuesday morning was bright and clear, and the day promised to be blistering hot. Fortunately, the air-conditioning in the chairman's office was first-rate. It had to be; without it, the heat on his gloved hands would be completely unbearable. 

The heat was the last thing on his mind, though. "I have had no further word since the order to hold," he repeated to the two others in his office. 

"How long can it take to make a decision?" asked Number Three angrily. 

"Do you wish to put the question to Twelve yourself?" the chairman returned, his eyebrows raised slightly. "It can be arranged." 

Three blanched, his bullet head turned suddenly away. "No. Of course…no." 

"Good." The chairman smiled faintly. "In any case, such a question would be unavoidably delayed. Number Twelve is presently…absent." 

"Do you know where?" asked Number Two. He was a middle-aged man with short, dark curly hair, a frank, open face and a smile that made him seem instantly trustworthy. This stood him in good stead as the head of 'D' Division, the diplomatic corps. That 'D' Division was also Japan's external-espionage agency was an added bonus. 

"I would assume that she is Down Below," the chairman said. Down in the Master's chamber, two kilometres underground. "I have not gone to check personally, you understand." 

"That's all very well. But my division is ready to move," Three insisted, "and the longer you hold on the decision, the worse our chances get. We've probably lost the cats again already. We run the risk of losing Hino, too." 

"I repeat that the decision is not mine to make," the chairman said. "In any case I suspect that capturing the cats is now irrelevant, though of course the Master may disagree, when he chooses to speak. He may even elect to leave Hino free." 

"She would be an ideal avenue to establishing the identities of the other Senshi," Two pointed out. 

"Obviously," Three said with a snort. "We're already looking into that, of course. Hino actually has a teenage girl living with her! And another one sleeping over every week. But Hiiro's team already confirmed that the Aizawa girl isn't a Senshi. We're still looking into Hayashi." 

"Such a pity that all the surveillance records of the building should have…vanished so conveniently," purred Two. 

Three gave him an angry look. "We're looking into that, too. Hiiro's one of our best men, never fear." 

"If you say so. Naturally, I would never dream of doubting your word." Two smiled, and Three tensed visibly at the sight. 

"Enough bickering," the chairman interrupted. "We may take no further action against the Olympus without the Master's sanction. That may be some time coming—he is still only half-awake, remember. Number Three, you will simply have to cope with the delay." 

"Very well," said Three shortly. He made little effort to conceal his frustration. 

"Good. Until then, gentlemen, try to remember that we also have other calls on our time." The chairman smiled. "We still have a country to run, and I suggest that we get back to it." 

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The commset buzzed, and Okuda Jiro picked it up. "Yes?" he said brusquely. 

"It's me," said the voice at the other end. "Ready to scramble." 

Jiro raised his eyebrows. He threw a quick glance at the small grey box on his cluttered desk. It looked like a music player—there was even a pair of headphones plugged into it—but inside, it was anything but. A small green light glowed innocently on one side of it. "Ready," Jiro said. 

Three short beeps came from the commset. On the third beep, he touched a switch on the grey box. There was a momentary burst of static in his ear, and then silence. "So what's up?" he asked. 

"Stay on your toes," the voice told him. "We may have to move fast. Shinpo's cyber division ran their crack on the Opal net." 

Jiro raised his eyebrows. "No go?" he asked. 

"Just the opposite. They got clear access for seventeen seconds, stripped the key-shift protocols, and got out again before the system could shut them down." 

"Did they get away clean?" 

"They think so." 

"But you're scrambling anyway." 

"Natch." 

"Okay." Jiro considered for a few seconds. Maybe they were clear; but if the Serries had detected the penetration of the Opal communications network, they would be quick to react. Scrambling as a precaution made sense. 

"We'll be ready," he promised. "Anything else?" 

"No." 

"Hmm." He pondered for a moment, then said, "We may have a new breakthrough at this end. A new contact." 

"Oh?" The voice sounded mildly interested. "Promising?" 

Jiro smiled. "Very." 

- - -

Deep underground, in a laboratory that never saw the light of day, a computer blipped. An alert icon began to swirl in the screen's status bar. 

Across the laboratory, a head lifted in surprise. A lean figure with lank, greying hair walked across to the computer and touched the icon curiously. Instantly, the screen filled with data. 

"Well, well," the figure said. 

Full records of the break-in, in every detail. The hackers had been very clever, but this network had a whole extra layer of security specifically designed to record intrusions without blocking them. There was no way for a hacker to know it was there, and consequently no way to evade it. The detection system was very reliable; M had written it personally. 

"How interesting," M said, and smiled. And erased all record of the intrusion. 

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"So what happened to Sailor Venus?" 

Nanako jumped at the voice from her elbow. She looked down and saw an unwelcome face beneath a shock of unruly blond hair. 

"Nothing," she told Hideo firmly. "Mind your own business." 

The twelve-year-old was not deterred in the slightest. "This is my business," he said. "We're partners, remember?" 

_And wasn't __that_ a mistake, she thought privately. But she'd needed him once. "Yes, we are," she agreed, "and nothing has happened to…her. She's just not here at the moment." 

"I know," the boy said, with just a hint of infuriating smugness. "She's eating her lunch over on the other side, by the pool." 

"She is?" Nanako blinked. Then she glared at him. "Wait a minute. You're still spying on her?" 

"Of course I am. Why, aren't you?" He gave her a puzzled frown. "I thought you were staying here to cover Sailor Mars. I mean, we're the Senshi Watch, remember?" 

"…Senshi Watch. Right." 

"We ought to get someone who can follow Bendis, too, but that's hard. So what _did_ happen to Sailor Venus? She usually eats with you." 

Nanako took a deep breath. "Beth-chan has succumbed to a combination of unrequited love, morbid self-pity and acute angst. She has therefore decided to isolate herself for the foreseeable future." 

Hideo hesitated. "What?" 

"She's gotten herself into a royal snit and now she's giving the rest of us the cold shoulder. That clear enough for you, kid?" 

He bridled visibly at the 'kid,' but said, "What's she mad about? Maybe we should talk to Bendis. I bet she could help." 

Nanako tried to picture what Bendis would say if they approached her again. She was pretty sure that it wouldn't be a warm welcome. "I think that might be a bad idea," she said cautiously. 

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Hideo have her a mutinous look. "You've been trying to get rid of me ever since I told you about Bendis." 

"Not true," she lied automatically. "Look, kid, trying to butt in isn't going to do any good. What do you want, anyway? We already know who these two are. It's the other three we want to find." 

"So what have you found out about them?" He made a face at her. "Never mind. You wouldn't tell me anyway." 

He walked away quickly. Nanako thought about going after him—or going around to the pool to try and talk to Beth again—but remained where she was instead. After all, he was perfectly correct. 

All the same, one of his questions kept running through her mind, unexpectedly troubling. 

_Whose side are you on?_

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Dhiti watched Miyo carefully. Something was wrong. 

The tall girl had not mentioned her brother's message at all today, and Dhiti was glad of that. The subject cut too deeply; it could bring nothing but pain, and if Miyo didn't feel like talking about it, Dhiti was happy to let it lie. 

No, Miyo was certainly quiet and somewhat reserved today, but that was to be expected. She did not appear too upset; simply…thoughtful. Whatever the problem was, it was not that. It looked to be much more interesting. 

Dhiti had to watch her for most of the morning to be sure. Then, finally, she had it. Miyo wasn't just keeping quiet because she had something on her mind. She was limping. The effect was faint, and she was obviously trying to cover it up; but she was obviously in some discomfort. 

The possibilities were too delicious to ignore. 

Dhiti waited patiently through most of the lunch break until she got her chance. Finally, Miyo was alone, and in a convenient spot. Dhiti walked silently up behind her and said in her ear, "Something wrong, Hayashi?" 

Miyo jumped, then yelped aloud at the sudden movement; and Dhiti felt a moment of perfect inner satisfaction. 

"Ow," Miyo said, clutching at her back ruefully. "Don't do that, Dhiti-chan." 

"What on earth have you been doing? If any other girl I know showed up walking funny like you are, I'd think she—" 

"Don't even go there." Miyo sat down with a groan. "If you really must know, I started training again last night. I thought it'd help take my mind off…things." She rubbed her back ineffectually. "Ow, ow, ow. I didn't think it'd hurt so much." 

Dhiti raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "Training? In what?" 

"Oh…aikido. Tai chi. What does it matter?" 

Dhiti smirked. "Let me guess. You used to do martial arts, um, before, so you just tried to do everything you remember, right? It's a wonder you didn't sprain something." 

Miyo shot her an irritated look. "Itsuko said the same thing. 'You've got to take the time to build up your muscles and reflexes.' I just didn't think it'd be this bad." 

"Serves you right. Now, when I was learning tai chi—" 

"You? When did you take tai chi? No, wait. Of _course_ you've tried tai chi. How long, three lessons? Four?" 

"…Something like that." It was Dhiti's turn for an irritated look. "Look, never mind that now. Have you decided what to do about Kin-chan yet?" 

"Interesting segue." Miyo cocked an eye at her and said, "No, I have not decided what to do about Kin-chan." 

"Um. I talked to Artemis about it last night." 

"_Did_ you now. And what did he say?" 

Dhiti shrugged. "He doesn't know." 

"Oh, that's a big help," Miyo grumbled. "I suppose you noticed that she's been avoiding us all day?" 

"Yah. Actually, I think she may have had another fight with Liam. Mark-chan was trying to ask me some funny questions about her before school this morning." 

"Wonderful. That's all I need. What kind of questions? What did you tell him?" 

"Weeeelll…he started to get kind of nosy, so I told him Kin-chan was probably having her period. And then he turned such an interesting colour." 

Miyo was turning an interesting colour, too. "Dhiti-chan!" she said. Then she started to laugh. 

"That's better," Dhiti said with satisfaction. "Look, don't worry about things so much, Hayashi. It'll all work out in the wash." 

"Easy for you to say," Miyo muttered. 

"Well, of course. It's not like _I_ have any problems. Just a cranky cat to deal with." 

"My heart bleeds for you." But she was still smiling. Miyo's dark mood was broken, Dhiti decided with satisfaction. 

"So-o-o," she said. "Tai chi, huh?" 

"You still on about that?" said Miyo. "I wasn't what you'd call a serious martial artist, last time around, but I studied a few things. Used to get into fights all the time, so I picked up some moves." 

"'Last time around.'" Dhiti snickered. "Whereas this time, of course, you are a peaceful soul, dedicated to harmony and enlightenment." 

"I'll enlighten you, in a moment," Miyo threatened. Then, more thoughtfully, she said, "Actually, it's funny about training. Itsuko's been saying that she wants to get Iku-san coming to the Olympus." 

"Yeah? I guess that makes sense. She seems like she could use the, er, conditioning." 

"Mm. Suzue-san's going to be there this evening, too." 

Dhiti blinked. "Damn, am I going to have to join up now?" 

"As if I'd expect you to stick it out more than a week!" Miyo dodged a mock blow. "No, that's the funny thing. She isn't going in for training. She's set up some kind of appointment with Itsuko in her office…and Itsuko was kind of hinting that she'd appreciate it if I was out at the time." 

"She what?" said Dhiti, startled. "That's…interesting." 

"Yeah. I'm not sure what to do about it, though." 

"The first thing that springs to mind is to leave a communicator in Itsuko-san's office, locked on 'send,' and listen in." 

Miyo swatted her. "Seriously." 

"Yes, seriously! Okay, okay, don't get torked up, Hayashi. So why would Suzue-san want a private meeting with Itsuko-san?" Dhiti thought for a moment. "Maybe she's thinking about becoming a miko." 

"In a gymnasium?" 

"Well, why not? Oh…whatever. Look, you've got two choices. Either you can just ask Itsuko-san—or Suzue-san, for that matter. Or you can spy on them." 

"Or I can just let it go." Miyo made a face. "I don't suppose I need to guess which one you'd pick." 

"Of course not! Spies have more fun, you know that." 

"Maybe." They walked in silence for a minute. Finally Miyo said, "But Itsuko wouldn't do this without a good reason. And if I can't trust Itsuko, who can I trust?" 

Dhiti cocked an eyebrow at her. "So you need to find something to do this evening until it's okay to go home." 

"I…guess so." 

"Wanna go to an ikebana class?" 

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The living room was quiet as McCrea Helen came in. She stood at the door for a little, watching her daughter. Beth was sitting quietly in an armchair, reading a book. Her cat was perched on the chair-back, looking down intently, for all the world as if it were reading over her shoulder. 

It looked peaceful enough. But there was something about Beth—something stiff, uncomfortable, as if she were forcing herself to sit there—that rang alarm bells. 

Beth looked up suddenly and saw her. "Hi, Mom," she said listlessly. 

She shifted slightly as she spoke, and Helen caught sight of the book cover. It appeared to be something about hydroelectric dams. 

That could wait, though. Of more immediate concern was the depression in her daughter's voice. Something had been bothering Beth for several days now; and this was not the first time. 

"Beth, dear, is there something wrong at school?" she asked. 

She hoped it was at school. Not…somewhere else. 

The cat jumped down from the back of the armchair and walked slowly out the door. Beth watched it go, a strange look in her eyes. Helen did not. "Beth?" she said again. 

Her daughter looked back up at her, and something shifted in her expression. "It's Eitoku-kun," she said. "He—he—" 

It all came pouring out. The deception; the betrayal; and finally, the basic racial prejudice of the boy she had set her heart on. Helen sat on the arm of the chair, put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and held her, listening quietly until she ran out of words. 

At the end of it all, Beth looked up at her with dry, wounded eyes and said, "What should I do, Mama?" 

Helen did not answer for a long time. She sat, rocking Beth gently in an unconscious memory of the days when she had been an infant, and wondered how the years had gone by so quickly. 

"What do you want to do?" she asked at last. 

Beth leaned over, resting her head in her mother's lap. "I don't know," she said. "I don't know if I…if I can face him again. Knowing he's thinking of me…that way." 

Helen reached out a hand to brush a wisp of light brown hair from Beth's face. "I know how hard it is, when you run into it for the first time," she said. "How it feels." Her voice was soft, almost meditative. "And there's really nothing that can make it better. All you can do is tell yourself that you have nothing to be ashamed of. That it's their problem, not yours. That it's no bad thing to be a Claver. And to remember that without us, Japan would still be in ruins, and the world would be in the dark ages. That we were the ones who made everything happen." 

"But why can't he see that?" Beth whispered. 

"Perhaps because he already had a girlfriend," her mother pointed out. "And even then—" 

Helen broke off, debating with herself. Finally she said, "You know, when I was young—your age, or a little older—I was considered quite the beauty. Quite a few boys used to be…interested in me." For the first time in years, she felt herself blushing. 

She looked down and saw that Beth was blushing, too. "Mama—!" the girl said. 

Helen smiled. "We never like to think about our parents that way, do we? But listen to me, Beth. This is important." Her smile faded. "There came a time, when I was twenty or so, when I became…quite strongly attached to three different young men. After a while, I realised that I had to make a decision." 

She could feel her daughter's eyes on her. She said, "All three of them were fine people, Beth, and I think I could have been happy with any of them. But the fact remains…that I picked your father because of the colour of his skin." 

After a while she dared to look down. Beth was staring up at her, mouth slightly open. At last the girl said, almost soundlessly, "Oh." 

"Yes. That's the dreadful thing: that it's so easy. I loved your father then, Beth, and I love him now, and I have never regretted choosing him. But I—" She stopped, for a moment lost for words. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. The heart isn't logical, Beth. Perhaps I could have loved Hikaru or Toshio. But I chose the way I did, and sometimes I feel…lessened by that." 

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered. 

"What for? You haven't done anything wrong." Helen took a deep breath and stood up, pushing her daughter's head aside gently. "I need to start work on dinner. Dear, if you want a suggestion…?" 

"What?" 

"This boy, Eitoku. I'm sorry, dear, but I think you know that he will probably never love you." She saw Beth wince, and then nod slowly. "All the same," she said, "I think he may need you…as a friend." 

Beth looked confused. "I don't understand." 

"As a reminder," Helen told her. 

She went into the kitchen to start dinner. As she worked, she hoped that Edward would get home soon. She needed to talk to her husband. She needed to feel his arms around her. And she hoped that Beth would not be too scandalised by any noises that she might hear coming from their bedroom that night. 

- - -

Beth sat in her room a little later, talking to Bendis. "Why do people have to be so complicated?" she asked mournfully. 

Bendis thought about it for a few moments. "If they weren't, they wouldn't be people at all," she said at last. "They'd be cats." 

Beth gave her a look. "That doesn't make any sense at all," she said accusingly. 

"No? When was the last time you saw a cat judge another cat by the colour of her fur?" 

"Well, I—I—that's not fair!" Beth protested. "Anyway, Artemis judges you because of your—you know." 

"Oh, fine. Bring _that_ up again. Rub my nose in it, why don't you?" 

"Well, you started it!" 

"I did not!" Bendis paused. "Did I?" 

"I—" Beth had to stop and think herself. "I'm not sure any more. Look, never mind that! What am I going to do tomorrow?" 

The cat gave a very human shrug. "I like what your mother said. Smart woman, that." 

"What, stay his friend anyway? I don't know if I can do that." 

Bendis bared her teeth in what might, possibly, have been a smile. "Show him what he's missing," she suggested. 

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Suzue stood at the office window, looking down at the city. It was evening, and the lights were beginning to come on. The dome of the Royal Archives, in the distance, was already glowing a pearly white. 

"I like your view," she said. 

"Thank you," said Itsuko. 

There was a clink of cups, and Suzue turned from the window. They were not using the desk in Itsuko's office; instead, Itsuko had produced a low chabudai table from somewhere. She knelt at it now, pouring tea. Suzue knelt down opposite her and picked up her cup, holding it in both hands for a moment before sipping. 

After a little she said, "What can I say that would convince you?" 

"Nothing," said Itsuko. "What can I say that would convince _you_?" 

Suzue sipped her tea again. She said, "Tell me about her." 

"Tell you?" Itsuko laughed softly. "Where do I start?" 

"How did you first meet her?" 

"Oh, now. That was a long time ago." Itsuko paused to think. "She and Ami-chan came to my shrine one day. They thought I might be a youma." She laughed again. "There _was_ something funny going on at the time. Something about…people disappearing? I forget the details." 

"You forget?" said Suzue, surprised. 

Itsuko gave her an amused look. "It was more than two thousand years ago. How well do you remember the day you met your best friend? That was probably, what, in the last ten years?" Suzue shook her head, chastened, and Itsuko sighed. "The days back then…they all run together. It's hard to keep them separate now. I wonder how Setsuna manages…" 

Suzue ignored the distraction. She said, "It was just her and Lady Mizuno, though? Not any of the others?" 

"Oh, we didn't meet the others until later. There were only the three of us, then; and of course Usagi didn't even realise who she was, at the time. She thought she was just another Senshi." 

"She didn't realise who she was," repeated Suzue. 

Itsuko gave her a sharp look. "That doesn't mean anything, Suzue-san." 

"Mm." Suzue sipped her tea. "Keep going. Tell me about her. What was she like?" 

"Well—" With little more encouragement, Itsuko began to talk. Despite her protests, her memory was quite good; as she went on, her words came more and more smoothly, with fewer pauses to recall details. She spoke of the malevolent queen, pawn of a still greater darkness, who had destroyed the Silver Millennium; she spoke of a strange pair of plant-aliens, and of an attack from the future by the lords of Nemesis. She spoke of a possessed scientist who sought to draw an extradimensional intelligence to Earth; of a shadow from the dark moon, and a light from Elysium; and of an invasion by Senshi from other worlds. Of other adventures; of the coming of the Great Ice, and its ultimate reduction. Of Crystal Tokyo. She spoke of the Senshi; the princesses of the inner planets who had been her comrades, the ladies of the outer worlds who had ultimately become her friends, and the prince of the Earth whom she had once thought might be more than that (Suzue's eyes widened). Of the three visitors from the distant planet Kinmoku, and their own princess; of Galaxia, consumed by chaos but ultimately redeemed; and of the strange impostor at the ending of the Great Ice who claimed to be the Senshi of the Sun, and of what became of her. 

Most of all, she spoke of a girl named Tsukino Usagi. An enigma of a girl; an awkward teenager with a braying laugh and a bottomless appetite, whose schoolwork was appalling and who could burst into tears if she dropped a cookie; and yet at the same time, a girl who burned with passion, and who—when, now and then, the veil was lifted for a moment—shone with the light of her own pure soul. A girl who could see straight into the hearts of her friends with breathtaking insight; who would willingly sacrifice herself rather than let those she loved be hurt. A girl who would risk the world rather than sacrifice a child. A girl for whom feeling would always outweigh thinking. A girl to whom life was love…and love was life. 

Outside the office, the sky became dark as Itsuko spoke on. Suzue listened with unflagging interest, her eyes seldom leaving Itsuko's face. Unnoticed, the tea grew cold. 

At last, the white-haired woman fell silent. The room became very still. There was only the distant sound of traffic from outside. 

Suzue stirred, tasted her tea, made a face and put it down again. She said, "I don't know if we have anything to argue about any more." 

"Oh?" said Itsuko. Her voice was hoarse from speaking. 

"I think," said Suzue carefully, "that you've already been worshipping her…for more than two thousand years now." 

There was no answer for a moment, and Suzue glanced up. Itsuko looked as if she had thrown a bucket of cold water in her face. "That," the older woman said clearly, "is a contemptible thing to say." 

"I'm sorry," said Suzue at once. "I shouldn't have said that. Please, forget I spoke." She glanced away. "I just…wish that I could have been there. To see her too." 

"It might have done you good," Itsuko said with a sniff. But her glare faded. "I wish you could, too," she said, a little wistfully. 

"And Miyo-san and Artemis-san can remember all the way back to the first paradise—to the Silver Millennium," Suzue mused. "What that must have been like! Do—do you remember it at all?" 

"Hardly anything," Itsuko answered. Her eyes grew distant. "I think I could, once—a little. For a while after I became Sailor Mars. But now all I can see are the ruins on the Moon. It's all faded away. All lost…" 

"The ruins…" Suzue shivered suddenly. "Didn't you tell us that the Bles—I mean, that the queen had been thinking about having her birthday celebrations there, just before the Fall?" 

"Eh? Oh—that. No, that was just a joke of hers." But Itsuko shook her head, distracted. "She _was_ cooking up something for her birthday, though, her and Endymion, just before the attack. Some kind of proclamation. I never found out what." 

"A public holiday, maybe?" 

"Mm…I doubt it. But Serenity played it very close to her chest; wanted it to be a surprise. She got this silly smile whenever I tried to get it out of her." 

Itsuko stared down at the table, lost in introspection, for some time. Then, suddenly, she jerked upright. 

"It's getting dark. What time is it—? We've been talking for hours!" 

Suzue looked down at her communicator-watch, startled. "Oh, my. So we have. My parents are going to be angry." 

"You can call them from here," Itsuko offered. "Then you'd better get moving. No, better yet—" She looked at the clock on her desk and made a quick mental calculation. "We've both missed dinner, and Miyo is off with Dhiti-chan somewhere. What say you call home, and then we go out and get something to eat? My treat." 

Suzue did not have to think twice. "Sure." 

As they stood to leave, she glanced over at Itsuko and smiled. "This still isn't over, though," she said. 

Itsuko grinned back. "Certainly not." 

- - -

"Pappa-san's leaving," said Aoiro over the commlink. "Want me to follow her car?" 

"You'd better," said Hiiro. "See if you can get an ID on the man she's with. Chances are it's nothing, but—" 

"Man?" came Aoiro's voice, puzzled. "She isn't with a man; it's a girl. Teenager. Not one in our records." 

"What?" Hiiro froze. "Hold one." He whirled to Mitsukai, seated at her terminal in the back of the van. "Confirm that," he ordered. 

Mitsukai slipped a headset back on. "The voice-print from the transmitter in her office is male," she said after a moment. 

"Damnation. What the hell—?" 

"Run a pattern analysis on the signal," said Kuroi over his shoulder. "If we've been compromised…" 

This took Mitsukai longer. "Confirmed," she said after a couple of minutes. "I have a third-level synthesis match. We're being fed a false signal." Her fingers flew over the keyboard. "The patterns correspond to Sankaku simulators." 

"Shit," said Kuroi. "She's been onto us all along." 

"Aoiro," said Hiiro urgently into the commset. "Did you get that? Stay on her at all costs. We need an ID on the girl." 

The commset was silent for a minute. Then, "Negative," said Aoiro. "Traffic's heavy. I lost her at the lights." 

Hiiro put a hand over the commset microphone. "Goddam—" 

Aoiro's voice went on. "I tried for a picture of the girl, but it was too dark. It's just a silhouette. Sorry." 

Hiiro and Kuroi exchanged looks. "Another Sankaku link," said Kuroi. 

Hiiro nodded. "Call it in." 

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Sese inspected the man with some skepticism. "Sven tells me you can be trusted," she said coolly. "The real question is, how good are you?" 

Asking Sven to find her a hacker had been impulsive, and she was already regretting it. The man he had found her, Honda Kunio—though he preferred to be called "Trio," for some inane reason—was doing little to allay her doubts. Small and rat-faced, he had, like Cassius, a lean and hungry look. He reminded her of the kind of street vendor who, having picked your pocket one day, would try to sell you your own empty wallet the next. 

Trio gave her a toothy smile that was almost a sneer. "That depends on what you want me to do," he said. 

It was nearly midnight, and Sese—as on far too many days—was still in her office. Outside her window, in the middle distance, was the huge glowing hemisphere of the Archives. A fine setting for conspiracy, she thought sourly. 

"How much has Sven told you?" she asked. 

"Nothing," said Sven quietly. He was standing to one side, so quietly that she had almost forgotten he was there. At her sharp look, he added, "He is reliable, Sese. I'm certain." 

"That's good to know," she shot back, "considering how much I'm risking just by talking to him." 

There was still time to back out, she knew. She had done nothing irrevocable…yet. She could send the man away and return to her duties with a clear conscience. 

But she was not sure that she could go back to lying to herself. 

"I want you to investigate the Serenity Council," she said crisply. "I'll give you my own 'I' Division access code; that should make a good starting point. In return, I want you to find out what the Council are doing…that they're not telling me." 

The look on his face almost made knowing that she had just broken her oath of office worth it. 

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Wednesday morning was grey and dreary, though the rain was expected to hold off until tomorrow. An hour after sunrise, the day was already hot and sticky. 

Sharma Dhiti kept up a running stream of chatter with Artemis as she got dressed—not at all bothered by changing in front of the cat—and departed for school, immensely satisfied with herself for having been able to make him lose his temper three times in five minutes. 

Itagaki Suzue thoughtfully added another title to the list of religious texts she wanted to look up in the library after school, as reference material for her next meeting with Itsuko. She doodled an airplane in the margin. 

Kodama Iku ate breakfast in silence, before returning to her room to dress. The room was clean and meticulously tidy, and she was careful to keep it that way. Finally she picked up her satchel and walked out the front door on her way to school. In silence. 

Hayashi Miyo walked to school as usual. On the way, she stopped and stared fixedly at a flower-bed for nearly five minutes, before clucking to herself in exasperation and walking on. 

McCrea Beth arrived at school and severely puzzled her friends by greeting Nanako and Eitoku warmly. 

Pappadopoulos Itsuko reviewed the list of aerobics sessions she would be leading during the day, and gave a loud groan. 

The 'S' Division mobile outpost near the Olympus building continued its round-the-clock vigil. 

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Dhiti visited the school library at lunch time. She spent fifteen minutes going through the meagre collection of late twentieth-century history, before giving up. Reluctantly, she turned to the library's computer system. 

She had never liked computers much. It was, perhaps, ironic that of all the Senshi, she was the one who was expected to be good with them. (If she ever found out who was responsible for that particular irony, there was going to be trouble.) Still, practice with the Mercury computer, however unwilling, had taught her a little. 

Access to the library system was keyed to her student ID. She entered it, glanced through the query screen that came up, and typed in a simple search key. 

OSAKA NARU. 

The computer paused for perhaps half a second. Then the response came back: NO MATCHES. 

Dhiti looked at it, feeling obscurely saddened. _Not even a footnote in the history books,_ she thought, remembering Artemis' words. She wondered if, two thousand years from now, anyone would remember Kin. 

She thought about looking Naru up in the Mercury computer, but in the end it didn't matter. She knew enough already. 

Signing off the computer, she went out looking for Miyo. 

The air outside was thick and muggy, without a breath of wind. It was like walking around in a sauna. Any sensible person would have stayed inside, in the air-conditioned buildings. That did not seem to apply to the sport enthusiasts, though. The playing fields were filled with pupils, all of them apparently competing to see who could get heatstroke the fastest. Shouts and laughter from the tennis courts, not far away, showed that the madness was not local. 

Rather as Dhiti had expected, she found Miyo sitting on a grassy bank near the fields. "'Lo, Hayashi," she said as she strolled up. "Listen, have you had a chance to think about—" 

Too late, she saw the smaller figure sitting at Miyo's side. "Oh, hi, Kin-chan," she ended rather lamely. 

"Hello, Dhiti-chan." Kin's tone was noncommittal. 

Dhiti kept her face under what she hoped was firm control, and sat down beside the pair. "So," she said in a cheerful voice. "What brings you two here? No, wait—let me guess." She waved out at the field. "Mark-chan and Liam-kun are out there. Right?" 

When there was no reply, she looked around. Both Miyo and Kin were glaring at her. "What?" she said, genuinely surprised. "Did I say something wrong?" 

Miyo put a hand to her forehead. "Sweet timing, Dhiti," she said wearily. 

"Wrong? Of course not," said Kin, her teeth clenched. "What could Miss Tact possibly say wrong?" 

"Oh, come on, you don't mean you and Liam-kun have broken up _again_? Kin-chan, the two of you are perfect together. Everyone knows it. What's he said that's got you so bothered this time?" 

"He told me I—" Kin broke off suddenly, and her face took on a calculating look. "Tell you what, Dhiti-chan, I'll trade you. I'll tell you what Liam said…if you tell me what you were going to ask Miyo-chan about just now." 

Worse and worse. Dhiti waved the question away with desperate casualness. "Oh, that was nothing," she said airily. "Just something about tai chi. Did Hayashi tell you she's started learning martial arts? She—" 

"Forget it." Kin gave her a long, flat stare. "It's too easy for you, isn't it? You can weasel your way out of anything." 

"Kin-chan—" 

The small blonde girl stood up, still looking at Dhiti. "You know what the really sad thing is?" she said. "I can still talk to you, when Miyo-chan isn't around. And I can still talk to Miyo-chan, when you aren't there. But put the two of you together, and this…secret of yours gets in the way." She grimaced. "I thought you were supposed to be thinking up a good story, Dhiti-chan." 

Dhiti could not think of an answer. 

"Yeah. Well, see you around. Later, Miyo-chan." 

She walked away without looking back. Dhiti watched her go, still wordless. At last she sat down beside Miyo. "Um," she said. 

"Yeah," said Miyo. "'Um' is right." 

"Oh?" Dhiti's temper flared for a moment. "I didn't exactly notice you helping me out there!" 

Oddly, Miyo refused to take the bait. "We were just talking about you, actually," she said, "and lo and behold, there you were. What was so important that you wanted to ask me about, anyway?" 

Dhiti let out a short bark of laughter. "I wanted to talk to you about Kin-chan. And lo and behold, there she was." After a moment she added, "I've been looking up Osaka Naru in the library." 

"Ah." Miyo's face went blank. "And did you find anything?" she asked after a moment. 

"You know I didn't." 

"No." Her lip curled. "There's a lesson there, if you want." 

"Not a very comforting one." Dhiti hesitated, then said, "Hayashi, I think we ought to talk about—" Before she could finish, the school bell rang behind them. All around, students began to head back in to class. "Damn! Look—" she said quickly as Miyo began to get up, "can we go somewhere after school, and talk about this?" 

Miyo paused for an instant. "I'll call you later," she said. "There's something else I have to…take care of after school." 

Dhiti frowned. That sounded ominous. "Trouble?" she asked. 

"Family business," Miyo said curtly. 

"Oh." And that, Dhiti realised, told her all she needed to know. More than enough, in fact. 

It also left Dhiti on her own after school, at a loose end. Now who was being shut out? 

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Hideo looked at them. To all appearances, they were just an ordinary bunch of kids, two boys and a girl. Three boys, counting Hideo himself. Ordinary was good, though. Ordinary could be an advantage. 

He had chosen them all carefully. Children around his own age, eleven or twelve; but not the rowdy, hyperactive sort. The quiet ones; the ones who nobody noticed much. The kind who knew how to use their eyes, and how to disappear into the background. The natural spies. 

"All right," he told the others. They fell silent with gratifying speed. "I declare the first meeting of the Senshi Watch open." 

There was a lot for them to do. They had to expand their numbers, covering more schools, building a network of members. They had to build communications links, so that new information could be passed along as quickly as possible. They had to maintain strictest secrecy. And above all, they had to watch for Senshi activity. 

He kept three names to himself: McCrea Beth, Kodama Iku and Bendis. He had promised, after all. Fortunately, that still left him a lot of leeway. The initial guidelines were easy: Watch for cats with moon markings. If there's a battle nearby, keep your eyes open. Stay out of sight. Try to follow any Senshi you see. Look for crystalline monsters, or women with jewels in their foreheads, but don't get in their way. 

Hideo had a lot of ideas, and his first three recruits had plenty of their own. They spoke for some time. 

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"Don't do it," said Liam. "It'll only be trouble." 

"Easy for you to say," said Mark, as he watched Miyo head back in to class. 

Liam laughed; but there was an edge to it. "I'm already in trouble," he said. 

"Dammit, look at her!" Mark said, ignoring him. "You can see she's down. She never smiles any more. And you're saying I can't even try to help her?" 

"You wouldn't be helping, though, now, would you?" 

"I could try!" 

"No, you couldn't. She wouldn't let you. She'd just have to push you away again, and that would only make things worse." Liam touched his shoulder gently. "Mark, boy, the best thing you can do is stay away until she's ready for you to come back." 

"And when's that going to be?" Mark asked bitterly. 

"Now if I knew that, I'd be the rarest man on Earth!" But then Liam grew thoughtful. "All the same, if I had to guess…I'd say sooner than she thinks." 

"Oh, that helps." 

"What did you expect? I've found the girl of my dreams, and I can't hold onto her either." The two boys started toward the school building, joining the other stragglers from the playing fields. As they walked, Liam sighed, and said, "Sometimes I think we'd be better off opting out of the game altogether." 

"Yeah?" 

"Oh, yes. If it weren't the most important thing in the world." 

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The air rippled in the chairman's office, and a slender figure appeared, floating a few centimetres off the floor. She was clad in midnight blue, with silver bands at her wrists and waist. There was a jewel embedded in her forehead, the size of a walnut. It was a dull grey colour, but now and then it flickered for a moment with a cold, pale light. 

"I am here," she said. 

The chairman did his best to look at her with equanimity; but as always, he found it hard to meet her eyes. It was not just that he knew how dangerous she could be. She could reduce him to ashes with a glance, if she chose. No, far worse was knowing that what had been done to her, could just as easily be done to him. If he failed. 

She had been an ordinary woman, not so many days before: Araki Mamiko, Number Twelve of the Serenity Council. Now, whatever had made her human was gone. She was a shell; a soulless puppet, dancing on the strings of the Master. The eyes that looked at him now were as devoid of warmth and feeling as a computer screen. 

Sometimes he wondered if, deep inside, Araki was still there. Buried, hopelessly lost, but aware. And screaming. 

"Welcome back," he replied. "Has the Master reached a decision about Hino, then?" 

Twelve shook her head. "Not quite. There is a final test to be made, first. We must confirm her true position." 

He frowned. "I don't understand." 

"That is of no consequence. There will be another attack today; one that will…stretch the Senshi a little." Twelve gave him a condescending smile. "No doubt you will want to make sure that your emergency services are prepared." 

He did not bother to wonder if she actually cared about emergency services. Of course she did not. Instead he said, "Very well. When will the attack be?" 

"After school." She smiled again. "After all, we wouldn't want to make it difficult for them to respond, would we?" 

- - - - - - -  
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The day ground its way onward. When school let out, Hayashi Fujimaro walked out of the gates alone. Most of his friends had been avoiding him lately. The rumours about Miyo had spread pretty fast. 

He headed for home automatically, his mind almost blank. He had no idea what he would do when he arrived. Spend the rest of the day not talking to his family, probably. None of them seemed to talk any more. Miliko was still approachable, but even she was starting to give up. 

The departure of Miyo had left a hole in the family. If they had tried, they might have been able to close ranks, to draw together and fill the gap. But none of them, not his parents or his older brother or Fujimaro himself, had had the will. Instead, the void had spread. Now it was threatening to swallow them all. 

Perhaps that was fitting. After all, they had brought it on themselves. 

Pause at the corner. Wait for traffic to clear. Cross. He went through the motions, hardly aware of what he was doing. 

_You knew that it was wrong_, she had told him. _You __knew_, and you watched it all happen…and you didn't do anything. He turned the corner and walked on, his eyes cast down, unseeing, at the pavement in front of him. In his head, the litany continued. It was all true. _You never spoke up. You never said a word. And that makes you just as guilty._ He heard her in his dreams, most nights. Guilty. He could not deny it. 

_Burn the house down?_ he remembered saying to Dhiti. _Maybe you'd be doing us a favour._

Past the corner bakery. Right turn, into a narrow, tree-lined street. He had tried to bury himself in schoolwork, but found that empty study only emphasized the emptiness within himself. His friends stayed away from him. His family no longer spoke. At school or at home, he was alone. 

There was a pair of legs just ahead. School-uniform trousers. He glanced up, puzzled. A figure, leaning against a tree. 

And then a flood of recognition; and the emptiness fled away from him and the world vanished and there was only her, standing in from of him, arms folded, staring at him coolly. 

"I hear you wanted to talk," she said. 

Fujimaro whispered, "Oneesan." 

- - - - - - -  
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Beth and Iku wandered through the mall at a leisurely pace, stopping here and there to look in shop windows before moving on. Beth had not been here for a while, and meant to enjoy it. She had half-expected Iku to be spooked at the idea of coming here, but the other girl seemed content enough…though she kept a wary eye open whenever anyone else came near them. 

Beth kept her own eyes open. They were supposed to be meeting Suzue and Dhiti, but so far there was no sign of them. 

The call to come here had been a surprise, but a welcome one. Things had been rather strained between her and Nanako and Eitoku today; so when Dhiti had called, saying something about "needing to get away from it all" and suggesting that they all go to the mall, Beth had been glad of the excuse. 

Spending the afternoon with the other Senshi sounded like fun, in any case. Iku had been loosening up a bit lately; Suzue seemed nice enough, if a little stiff; and Dhiti was mad, but interesting. Apparently Miyo couldn't make it for some reason; that, in Beth's opinion, was Miyo's loss. 

Zarigani Mall was not especially large, but it was convenient to the girls' three respective schools. Its cheerful logo, a cartoon crayfish with a big, slightly stupid grin, was everywhere. The interior was clean and well-lit; the air-conditioning was doing its job; the ambient music was catchy and fairly recent; and the air was filled with the chatter of a thousand young people. Not bad at all, in fact. 

There was an ice-cream stall ahead that looked better than not bad. She tapped Iku on the shoulder and pointed. "You want to get something while we wait?" she asked. 

Iku looked surprised, then pleased. "Okay," she said. 

A minute later, licking their ice creams, they wandered on. Beth decided that this was much better than sitting at home, trying to read a dry stack of text-books. She eyed a music store just ahead, and mentally compared it to the shoe shop next door. She didn't need anything from either, but that was hardly the point. Sneaking a look at Iku, she tried to decide if the other girl looked interested in either. 

"So," she said. "Music, or shoes?" 

Iku considered for a moment. "Craftwork?" she said hesitantly. 

"Huh?" Actually, there _was_ a craftwork supply shop a little further on. "I didn't know you were into that," Beth said, surprised. 

"I knit," said Iku, almost shame-faced. "It's…relaxing." 

"Really? Maybe you could show me how sometime." Iku's eyes widened, but Beth did not notice. A sudden idea came to her, and she giggled. "Maybe I should get a ball of wool for Bendis," she said. 

Iku thought about this. Her lips twitched. 

"A-ha," said a voice from behind them. "Making evil plot without us, are you?" 

"Hello, Dhiti-chan," said Beth without looking around. 

"We were talking about knitting," added Iku. 

"Oh!" said Dhiti. "Well…if that doesn't sound evil, I don't know what does." 

Beth turned, to see the dark-skinned girl standing with Suzue not far off. "Do you even know how to knit?" she asked suspiciously. 

Dhiti looked disconcerted. "Um, well, not…as such. I did try crocheting for a while, but it was kind of dull." 

"Oh?" Beth glanced over at Iku. "I've heard it can be very relaxing." She winked at the other girl. 

"Traitor! How can you doubt my word?" Dhiti declaimed. "I detect a challenge to my obvious supremacy—" 

"Excuse me, but…why are we talking about knitting, again?" said Suzue. "I thought we were here to—" She paused. "Why _did_ you call us here, anyway?" 

"Just to hang out, really," said Dhiti, relaxing from her declamatory pose. "I mean, training sessions are all very well, but…we ought to be getting to know each other, right?" 

Suzue shrugged. "Mm. I'm not sure that's really necessary. But I…suppose it's not a bad idea." 

"Good to know you're so enthusiastic," said Dhiti dryly. 

"Well, it makes things a little more awkward," Suzue replied. She wore a slight frown. "I think my boyfriend has already noticed that I'm not telling him things." 

"Boyfriend?" said Beth, interested. "That's right, you did say you've got a—" 

"Let's not get side-tracked," cut in Dhiti, though she looked equally intrigued. "Actually, Hayashi and I have a, well, a similar problem." 

"You mean, your boyfriends are—?" began Beth. 

"Try to stay on the subject, Beth-chan. Hayashi's problem with her boyfriend is that she doesn't realise he's her boyfriend yet. Um…I meant a different friend. She's getting kind of suspicious." Quickly she laid out the situation to the others. 

Beth thought it over. Fortunately, she had no such problem; Nanako suspected nothing. She could see the others' difficulty, though. "What we need," she said slowly, "is an excuse to be meeting. Some kind of perfectly innocent reason to be getting together after school, or on weekends, or whenever." 

"Some kind of club?" said Suzue. "Or a sports team?" 

"The All-Senshi Planetary Defence Knitting League," said Dhiti. 

"Seriously," said Beth, giving her a pained look. "A sports team could work pretty well, actually. It gives us an excuse to go to the Olympus all the time." 

"Some kind of sport that takes five people?" Dhiti said dubiously. 

"Well…we can pretend to have more. Or—" 

"Softball," suggested Suzue. "Nine players for nine planets." 

Dhiti grinned. "It could be a while before we can field a team." 

"That's not the point," Beth said impatiently. "As long as it gives us an excuse to meet, that's all we need." 

"But what if Dhiti-san's friend wants to watch a game?" asked Iku. 

That brought the discussion to a halt. They threw ideas back and forth for a while, but all of them seemed to fall down in one way or another. After a while things started to get heated, and Beth suggested they break for a little. 

"Let's get something to drink," she told the others. "We're in a mall; we ought to buy something, at least." 

They retired to a nearby juice stand and stood looking at the price board for a little. 

"I can't decide which sounds worse," said Dhiti; "the Natural Algae or the Prune'n'Pineapple." 

"Try both, mixed," suggested Beth with a smirk. 

"I will if you will!" 

They were staring at each other in open challenge when Iku said, very quietly, "I still don't understand why you can't just tell your friends who you are. If they're your friends, can't you trust them?" 

Beth, Dhiti and Suzue eyed each other. "As a matter of fact," said Dhiti slowly, "I was talking to Artemis about—" 

Beth never found out what Dhiti had been talking to Artemis about, though; because at that moment, there was a sudden, ear-splitting crashing sound, followed by a chorus of screams. They looked around and saw something moving at the far end of the mall, pulling itself out of a mound of wreckage and broken glass. Something huge and unmistakably crystalline. 

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"Cat got your tongue?" asked Miyo sardonically. 

Fujimaro stared at her, lost for words. "Oneesan," he said again. 

Her face twisted into a scowl. "I knew this was a waste of time," she said. She turned her back and started to walk away from him. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

Miyo froze. "What?" she said, her back still toward him. 

"I—I'm sorry. Miyo-oneesan, please…I'm sorry. I was wrong. It was all wrong. It…" He trailed off, unable to go on for a moment. Then, in a low, determined voice, he said, "It's _still_ all wrong. Nothing…nothing has been right since you went away." 

"Then why?" she said. Her voice had changed; when he glanced up he saw that she was facing him again. "Why, Fuji-kun?" 

"I don't _know_!" he cried out, startling her into taking a step back. "I don't know," he repeated in a lower voice. "When you said…when you showed us you were a…you know…" He glanced around guiltily, but there was nobody in sight. "That was scary," he went on, speaking more freely now. "Scary, but exciting. But…then you said…" 

"I know," she murmured. 

"You said you were _her_. You were there…back there…with Queen Serenity. And even before…on the moon…" 

"The Silver Millennium." 

He nodded. "And I was scared. You were so much…_more_…and where was my sister in all that?" 

Miyo did not answer for some time. At last she said, "I was born on Callisto. One of the moons of Jupiter. My parents were the rulers of the Jupiter realm. I visited all the planets of the Solar System, except Saturn and Pluto, before I was ten. I've walked in the forests of the Moon, and bathed in the golden wells of Venus, and seen the courts of Atlantis before it fell. I have fought at the command of Serenity, the last queen of the Silver Millennium…and in the service of her daughter. And I've walked the streets of First Tokyo, and fought beside the Senshi of nine worlds there. I saw the descent of the Great Ice, and the way it ended. I helped to build Crystal Tokyo, and I was one of its guardians." She took a deep breath. "I've died four times now, and I'm here talking to you. Fuji-kun, that scares you?" 

He nodded again. He could no longer meet her eye. 

Her voice was unexpectedly gentle. "Then why did you tell Dhiti-chan you wanted to see me?" 

Fujimaro said something inaudible. "Pardon?" she inquired. 

"I said, because it doesn't matter." His words were soft, but firm. "Oneesan, what did you give me for my tenth birthday?" 

Miyo blinked. "Your—? How am I supposed to remember that?" Then she thought again…and a hole opened in her mind. "Wait a minute. Oh, I know. It was that ratty old scarf, wasn't it? You used to wear it all the time, even after it got so torn up Mom said it should be burned. I even caught you tying it to your bicycle once, like some stupid kind of flag—" 

She broke off suddenly, realising what she was saying. "Oh," she said. "Wow. You really like that thing, didn't you? I never…realised before." 

"But you patched it up for me, three times." 

Miyo frowned. "Four times," she said. "You always forget the time when you—" 

He was smiling. "Big sister," he said. 

And in another moment, his arms were around her. 

She froze, startled. Looked down at the head on her shoulder. He was shaking, she realised. And he was still smiling, but there were tears in his eyes. 

She thought about it. Then, slowly, she brought her own arms up to embrace him in return. 

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I am." 

- - -

They stood for what seemed like a long time, but could not really have been more than a minute. At last Miyo let her arms fall from around him. He released her at the same moment and stepped back. 

"Hell of a reunion," she said. 

Fujimaro nodded. 

"Reminds me of another one I had, just a few weeks ago." Her lips quirked at the memory. 

"Oneesan…" Fujimaro seemed to take courage from the smile. "You'll come home now. Won't you?" 

Her smile froze. "Fuji-chan…" 

"You'll come home, and everything will be all right again. You will, won't you?" He stared at her, his face desperately earnest. Then, as she remained silent, his expression crumpled. "You…won't." 

"What would Father say?" she asked softly. 

"He—" The realisation in his eyes was awful to see. "He. He b-burned all your pictures, oneesan." 

That, she had not expected, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, how deeply a loved one could wound. 

"It's not my home any more, Fuji-chan," she said faintly. 

"Then…can I come where you're staying? Please?" 

Miyo took a deep breath. "No," she said. "That's…not really possible." 

Even as she said it, she knew that it might not be true—that it might, somehow, be possible for him to come. Itsuko knew how things were. She might say yes. 

At the same time, she knew that it would be a mistake. She was sundered from her family, probably forever. Allowing her brother to join her could only further the damage. Too, it would put him squarely in the centre of the Senshi—potentially, directly in harm's way. 

Looking at him, she saw that he had been expecting her to say no. "Then can I visit you, at least?" he begged. "Oneesan, don't…just go away again." 

"Oh, Fuji." She shook her head, but now she could smile, at least a little. "Of course you can." 

"Miliko, too?" 

"Mili-chan, too." Miyo hesitated, then said, "And what about Ichiyo? And…and Mother?" 

He did not answer for some time. At last he said, "I don't think they'd come, oneesan." Reading the shocked dismay on her face, he went on, "Ichiyo-niisan—he cares; I know he does, really. But I think…" He bit his lip. "I think he's started to hate you, as well." 

"Hate." Miyo said it flatly. Then: "He blames me. For all of this." 

Fujimaro nodded. "I don't think he realises it. But…" 

She gave a short, bitter laugh. "And you wanted me to come home! Fuji-chan, maybe I should take you with me after all." Then she shook her head. "No, forget I said that. It…just wouldn't work. But what about—" She started to ask him about their mother, then stopped herself. She knew that without hearing the answer. Hayashi Aki would not act against her husband's will. 

"At least Mili-chan still cares," she said bitterly. 

"I'll bring her," Fujimaro promised. "I will. Oneesan, where are you living? Where do we go?" 

"I'm at—" Miyo broke off in sudden dismay. "Oh, Fuji-chan, I can't say. I'm so sorry! I…have to talk to someone first. The person I'm staying with. She—" She shook her head helplessly. "Wait; please. Just a day or two, I promise. I'm sure she'll say yes. But I can't…can't just tell you. There are reasons—" 

He barely flinched. "Is she another…one of you?" he said. 

"She—no, she's…Fuji-chan, I can't say. I truly am sorry. But I—" 

Before she could say more, she was interrupted by a sudden beeping sound, making them both jump. With a sinking feeling, Miyo looked down and saw that the noise came from her communicator. 

She stared at Fujimaro for a moment. Then, deliberately, she touched the communicator, activating it, and brought it up so she could see the screen. "I'm here," she said. 

Dhiti's voice came from the tiny device. "Oh, hi, Hayashi. Hate to disturb you, but we've got a bit of a situation here…" 

"Where?" 

"Zari—whoa! That came a bit close." There was a hasty scuffling noise from the communicator, and what sounded like something breaking. "Zarigani Mall. You know it?" 

"On my way," Miyo said. 

In one swift, practised motion, she produced her henshin wand and raised it up, the words already on her lips. Then she glanced at her brother. 

His lips shaped the word, "Go." 

"Jupiter power, make-up!" she said fiercely. Light and energy filled the lane, bearing her away and returning her transformed. The Senshi of Thunder gazed down at Fujimaro. 

"Call me," Sailor Jupiter told her brother. "I can't tell you where I live yet…but you can call me." She recited the private comm number for Itsuko's suite. "Don't spread it around, okay?" 

She turned and sprinted away, without looking back. 

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The fight was not going well. This vitrimorph was big and frighteningly quick, and their attacks were having little effect on it. The indoor setting did not help; the mall had five levels, and the creature could leap from floor to floor to dodge anything they threw at it. 

It was massive and very heavy, so its leaps were causing a lot of damage. Railings were torn away, shopfronts smashed open and merchandise strewn everywhere. Shattered glass and rubble littered the floors. Here and there, sparking electric cables dangled from broken ceiling tiles. There were fires breaking out in a few places, but the sprinklers had them under control. The wail of alarms filled the air. Fortunately, most of the shoppers had fled when the attack began. 

The vitrimorph itself was of glittering crystal, its shape something half-way between a bear and an ape. It moved on four legs, but there was another pair of limbs, arm-like, emerging from its back. The Senshi had already seen that its hands could crush stone. 

It was tough, too. Mercury had managed to hit it in the shoulder once; the creature was knocked down by the impact, but it got up again immediately without visible damage. Uranus' sonic beam seemed to bother it more, but it jumped away effortlessly whenever she caught it. Venus' chain and Mars' Burning Mandala seemed to have no effect. 

They needed a plan. 

Sailor Venus paused for a moment to take stock. Mercury was talking on her communicator, as Uranus gave covering fire; Mars was nowhere to be seen…and the vitrimorph was coming far too close for comfort. Venus decided to take some of the heat off the others. 

As it approached, she darted out and sprinted across its path. It wheeled in her direction instantly, much faster than she had expected. Venus ducked frantically as it swung a massive crystalline fist at her head, missing her by a hair. The next blow followed a fraction of a second later. She dodged back, then leaped for safety. There was an open balcony a level up; she caught hold of the railing and flipped herself over. The floor was slippery with water from the sprinklers, and she skidded as she landed. 

The monster followed her. Even as she caught her balance, she heard the thunder of its legs, and then a sudden silence. She dodged again, instinctively. The vitrimorph landed where she had been standing, with an impact that made the floor shake. Faux-marble tiles shattered under its feet. 

Venus was already moving away. She vaulted over a twisted pile of clothes racks and headed down a nearby corridor. Behind her, she heard the racks smashed aside. The sound of the vitrimorph's feet did not falter. 

The corridor led into a multi-level switchback. Cursing under her breath, she ran up the first two zig-zags, then leaped from level to level up the rest. The pounding footsteps followed. They sounded as if they were coming closer. 

At the top, the switchback opened out into a long, straight hall lined with shops. Venus' heart sank. Getting caught in a shop would be suicide; but there was no cover at all in the hallway. She was going to be an open target. And the vitrimorph was right behind. 

She accelerated into a sprint. Speed was her only hope now. 

A pair of frightened eyes watched from within a shop as she passed. Not everybody had fled. Venus could only hope that the vitrimorph did not notice the watcher. She ran on. 

Perhaps the footfalls behind her grew too regular. Some instinct warned her, and she ducked to the left. A pale golden bolt of energy shot past her ear, passing through the spot where she had just been. She yelped out loud. From somewhere she found a little extra speed. 

She had not realised that this one could fire energy bolts. Another problem to juggle. 

The bolt hit something up ahead with a burst of glass and rubble. Venus rolled head-over-heels, letting the worst of the splinters pass overhead, and came to her feet once more. She was running for her life, she realised. 

Just ahead, to her relief, the hall opened out again. She covered the last few metres at an all-out dash, and burst out into a giant five-level concourse. She had no time to slow; instead, as she reached the railing, she jumped out into open space. And realised, too late, that the gap was very deep—and far too wide for her to reach the other side. 

She spun in mid-air, shouting words of power. Her Love-Me Chain shot upward and wrapped itself around a girder in the roof, high above. Her fall became a swoop. 

She had just enough time to remember the last time she had done this: swinging from an Opal, it had been. This time was not as much fun. A second ball of energy sizzled past her, leaving a long, painful burn down her right arm. Then she was on the other side, dropping clumsily to the floor on the fourth level. Her chain vanished as she released it. 

There was a moment of silence. Venus caught her breath and looked around, clutching her burned arm. On the far side of the gap, the vitrimorph was looking back at her. She could almost think that its face had a frustrated expression. Then it lifted its head slightly. Its open mouth glowed pale gold, and another lambent burst of energy spat across the gap. 

_Gross,_ Venus thought vaguely. She did not try to dodge; the bolt was going well over her head. She wondered why it had even bothered. A fit of pique, perhaps. 

Then the roof fell on top of her. 

- - -

Uranus wiped a strand of wet hair from her eyes, sagging back and watching for a moment as the enemy monster followed Venus away. She was bone-weary. Her attack was draining, and she had fired a lot of them today. All too few had hit. 

She heard the click of a footstep nearby, and glanced up. Sailor Mercury had finished her call for help and was pulling herself out from cover. There was a thin smear of blood down her left arm, remnant of a flying splinter. She looked tired, too; nearly as tired as Uranus felt. 

"You okay?" Mercury asked. 

"Give me…a minute." Uranus leaned back on the wall. It felt deliciously cool. 

"Sure." Mercury glanced away, in the direction Venus had gone. "Quite the mover, isn't she?" She grinned suddenly. "Makes you wonder." 

"Wonder…what?" 

"If you'd been trained by Bendis too, would you be jumping around that way?" 

Uranus closed her eyes and tried to imagine this. It was disturbingly easy. With a grunt, she pushed herself upright once more. "I think we have other things to worry about right now," she said primly. 

"I suppose so. Have you seen—oh, there she is." A little distance away, Sailor Mars was picking her way toward them. "You okay, Mars-chan?" Mercury called. 

The girl opened her mouth, then closed it again, shrugging helplessly. She was dirty and bedraggled, and looked as weary as the others. But there was a hopeless, defeated look in her eyes. 

Uranus felt a brief moment of sympathy for her. Mars was no fighter, that much was clear. She fled when the vitrimorph came near; when faced with a physical challenge, she froze up or backed off, every time. What must it be like, to be constantly so afraid? 

But she kept trying. Uranus had seen her concentrating so hard on her Burning Mandala that it glowed sun-bright, and left her half-fainting from the strain…and all to no avail. A slight singeing was all she could manage. You could see it in her eyes; she was beaten before she started, and she knew it. And she kept trying anyway. 

Yet for all her sympathy, Uranus could not help but feel a dull resentment. They were facing a serious challenge, and one of their number was simply not up to the job. What a sad irony, that they were stuck with Iku here, while back at the Olympus was one of the most powerful women who had ever lived—if she could only use her power again. 

They had traded a warrior of fire for a wet squib. The only thing this new Mars was good for was a distraction. 

She squelched the dark thought before it could go any further. As she herself had said, just a few moments ago, right now they had other things to worry about. 

"Come on," she said. "Let's get after Venus." 

Mercury and Mars nodded. Uranus took a deep breath, glanced about quickly, and set off. The other two fell in just behind her. She did not try to repeat Venus' jump to the balcony; there was a upward walkway nearby and she aimed for it without hesitation. 

The next level was empty, but it was easy to tell which way Venus and the vitrimorph had gone. The trail of rubble and broken floor tiles made the path clear. Twisted metal fragments that might once have been clothes racks were strewn across the floor. The girls ran past them without pausing, Mars lagging behind the other two. Faint and far off, the sound of sirens could be heard. 

As she reached the switchback leading up, Uranus paused for a moment. A nearby wall-board showed a directory of the mall, and the map gave her an idea. 

She waited impatiently for Mars to catch up. Then she indicated their position on the board, and the long hallway at the top of the switchback. "I'll follow Venus," she said to the other two. "But look; there's another way up, here." She pointed on the map. "If you two go straight ahead, through _here_, then down the gallery and up this other walkway—" 

"We'll be able to catch the monster between us!" finished Mercury, her eyes lighting up. Then her face fell. "But we'll have to time it just right, to attack at the same moment—" 

"Use your computer," said Uranus impatiently. "Shouldn't you be able to track where I am?" 

"My—" Mercury froze for a moment. Was she flushing? On her face it was hard to tell. "Um, right. That'd work." 

"All right. Get moving, then. Don't be late." 

Wasting no more time, Uranus ran toward the switchback. She heard Mercury and Mars hurrying away behind her. As she started up the first ramp, she realised that Mercury had never even thought of her computer until now. Typical. 

The top of the switchback opened out into a long, open hallway. She started down it, not moving too fast. Mercury and Mars had farther to go, and she did not want to arrive before they did. She tried to reckon in her head how long it would take them. Why couldn't she have had a computer like Mercury's? 

From far up ahead, there came a drawn-out, grinding crash. It sounded like half the building was falling in. Uranus slowed for an instant. Then she started to run for all she was worth. 

- - -

Mercury dropped her visor over her eyes as she ran. Interestingly, her vision became much clearer at once. The device was filtering out the smoke and the constant shower of water from the sprinklers. A neat trick, that. 

She pulled her computer out and opened it as she ran, hoping that it was water-proof. The screen lit up with displays. And, yes, there was a tracking function. This might actually work… 

But there was a sound that was missing from her side. She stopped to look around, and saw how far behind Mars had already fallen. 

It must have shown in her expression. As Mars caught up, Mercury could read the resignation in the other girl's face. 

"Just go," Mars said quietly. "Sailor Uranus needs you. I'll…I'll catch up." Something twisted in her face; she fell to her knees, staring down at the floor, and waited. 

A thousand thoughts raced through Mercury's mind. The impulse to say something funny, instantly suppressed. The urgency of the situation. Uranus, who was depending on them. Venus, who might already be in trouble. And Mars…Mars, who was waiting for Mercury to run off and leave her. 

_How many times has someone left her already?_

The idea left a peculiar, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sailor Mercury thought about it, thought about going ahead. It was the rational thing to do; it was the best way to help Venus and Uranus. And yet…and yet. She made a decision. 

She knelt down at Mars' side and took her hand gently. The other girl looked up, startled. 

"Come on," Mercury said. She smiled. "You're one of us now. You're a Sailor Senshi. And we don't leave other Senshi behind." 

Mars' eyes widened. For a moment, something bloomed, deep behind them. Something glorious. 

"I'll slow you down," she whispered. 

"Have a little faith in yourself," said Mercury. And then, because somehow it seemed required: "I believe in you." 

She stood up, still holding Mars' hand, and waited. After a moment, Mars rose from her knees. They stood in silence for an instant more. 

Then they ran. 

For a few seconds Mercury thought it was not going to work. Mars' pace was ragged, clumsy; she could not keep up. Then, almost magically, it happened. The girl's footfalls found a rhythm. Her breathing steadied and her body began to move in harmony at last. Mercury could almost hear her relaxing, even as her speed increased. Side by side, they ran. 

They rounded a corner and started through the broad gallery that Uranus had indicated. It was wide and roomy; the ceiling was higher here, and far off at the opposite end it vanished altogether as the gallery expanded into a giant multi-level concourse. 

They ran. Here and there, a few bewildered-looking mall staff, dressed in yellow emergency jackets, turned to watch them pass. The sirens they had heard earlier were closer. There was another sound, too, like the irregular beating of a drum, coming from above. But the walkway to the upper levels was not far ahead— 

Then the roof came tumbling down. 

The two Senshi skidded to a halt, just in time. With a sound of thunder, hundreds of tons of wreckage plummeted down out of the concourse at the end of the gallery. Beams and girders, crumbling sections of walkway, stone and wooden panels, sheets of disintegrating glass and, everywhere, thick, billowing clouds of dust; a torrent of ruin, descending from on high. The air was filled with alarms, sirens, shouts and screams of terror and pain, and, overwhelming all, the roar of destruction. It seemed to go on forever; whenever it began to slow, it suddenly picked up again as more sections of the mall, damaged by the avalanche, gave way. 

At last the onslaught began to truly subside. The rumble of falling wreckage slowed to a trickle. The air was thick with dust and grit, leaving a foul taste in Mercury's mouth. At least she could still see through her visor. There was a hiss of water, gushing from broken pipes. More fires had broken out. Up ahead, the pile of wreckage overflowed the edges of the concourse. Walls had been crushed aside, and most of the pillars around the edge were buckled or broken. With a sudden chill, Mercury realised that they might give way at any moment. 

She began to turn to Mars, to tell her to go back to the emergency staff and get them out of the mall. Before she could complete the motion, one more object came down from above, not tumbling but clearly jumping, to land with an ear-splitting crash in the midst of the rubble. Something large and glittering. 

The vitrimorph did not appear to be damaged at all. 

It pulled itself out of the wreckage, two arms and four legs moving smoothly, and looked around. The bear-like head turned in Mercury's direction. It started toward her. 

There was no more possibility of retreat. She and Mars were the only things between it and the emergency staff. Mercury took a deep breath, coughed on dust, and prepared to cast another Ice Spear. 

Beside her, she heard Mars shout out, "Burning Mandala!" 

The lines of fire tracked themselves crazily across the wreckage, spiralling in upon the vitrimorph. They met in the centre, and a few sparks danced off its crystal body. Useless, as always. 

But Mercury saw the attack, for the first time, through her visor. She saw the lines of analysis that her computer obligingly displayed. And she thought: _Well, what do you know?_

- - -

Venus tried to dive for cover as the roof collapsed, but there was simply no time. A heavy ceiling tile struck her on the shoulder in mid-air, knocking her sprawling. Before she could recover, something heavy smashed her in the small of the back. Her chin hit the floor, hard, and the world became scarlet with pain. 

More debris hammered into her. She cried out, but the sound was lost in the falling wreckage. She was pinned in place, helpless. More and more fell, each new blow fresh agony; the thunder of ruin was all around her, and the weight mounted endlessly…And then, miraculously, the onslaught began to die away. A few last chunks fell, and no more. 

After a long time, she managed to open her eyes. It was dark; she was completely buried. The pain in her back was immense. A strong taste of salt was in her mouth. She could not breathe through her nose; she could barely breathe at all. There was no air. The weight pressing down on her was almost overwhelming. 

She was alive. 

More than that; she was a Senshi. She was a hero. And she was damned if some crystal bugbear was going to bring her down. 

The pressure on her left arm was a fraction less than on the rest of her body. With some difficulty—ignoring the pain in her back and her mouth—she forced the arm to move. Leverage was what she needed. Get the palm on the floor. Slide it in, toward her body. Press hard. She groaned with the effort, with the renewed agony, and pushed harder. 

Something shifted; the weight on her shoulders seemed to lessen. She pushed again. And then she heard the rubble sliding; something that felt like a brick landed on her fingers and she groaned again; but suddenly there was enough room for her to turn her head, and a distant light filtering through the wreckage; and when she inhaled, she had all the air she wanted. 

With a little more room to move in, she managed to work her shoulders free of the beam that lay across them. That gave her the use of both arms. Little by little, she worked her way out of the pile of wreckage. 

It seemed to take forever. When she finally managed to sit up, she realised that it could not have been more than thirty seconds. 

She coughed, spat blood, and felt her nose gingerly. It did not seem to be broken. Then she stood up and looked out across the concourse once more. 

The vitrimorph was staring back at her. 

As she watched, dismayed, it spat more bolts of energy. They were aimed successively higher and higher. With a sudden, cold horror, Venus realised that it was going to bring the whole building down on her. 

There was a drawn-out scream of tearing metal and disintegrating stone from above, and hundreds of tons more wreckage began to fall toward her. She looked around wildly. All around her, she was surrounded by the debris from the first shot. There was nowhere to run. 

Well, one place. 

She fired her Love-Me Chain across the concourse, and swung out across the gap once more. Straight back toward the vitrimorph. 

She ought to have made for another floor, above or below, but the angles were tricky and she simply had no time. The first new fragments from above struck her shoulders, hard enough to sting, as she swung out. She paid them no heed. Her eyes were fixed on the enemy. 

It stood there, waiting for her. Massive arms reached forward, those hands which could crush stone ready to receive her. It could have fired again—she was an easy mid-air target—but it did not have to bother. She was going to land right by it. She braced herself, ready to flip out of reach the moment she landed…and knowing that she did not have a chance. 

And then something dim and shimmering struck the vitrimorph from behind. There was a faint singing in the air; a tingling on her skin. Like music, Venus thought, entranced. The music of the spheres. 

The vitrimorph stiffened; it seemed to shudder at the touch of the beam. Then, in a movement that was almost too fast to follow, it leaped away. Venus did not have time to see where it went. The balcony was coming up to meet her, fast. She released her chain, letting it wink out of existence, and landed sprawling on the spot where the creature had stood. 

A slim figure stepped out of the hallway to meet her. "Invited by a new millennium," it intoned gravely, "Sailor Uranus…acting gracefully." 

Venus raised a bloody face to her saviour. "You betcher ass," she said. 

- - -

"Ice Spear!" 

The bolt of ice hit the vitrimorph in the neck, flipping the monster backward to land, upside-down, in the mountain of wreckage that filled what had once been a bright, open concourse. There were scattered cheers from the mall staff who still remained in the gallery, watching. Mercury tried to ignore them. She knew that it was far from over. 

Sure enough, there was a sudden explosion of movement from the rubble. The vitrimorph burst out of the heap, sending splinters of stone and shattered glass flying in all directions. From behind Mercury came a hoarse scream of pain. She ignored that, too. 

Once upon a time, the monsters just stole your life energy, or your heart crystal, or whatever. They didn't try to tear you limb from limb. They searched for beautiful dreams; they didn't go around killing innocent people. Above all, Mercury was pretty sure that they went down a lot more easily than this. 

Of course, there was a Sailor Moon in those days. That probably made a difference. 

The vitrimorph stalked closer. Mercury watched, narrow-eyed. It could move a lot faster than you'd expect, when it wanted to. She braced herself to get out of the way. 

It did not rush her. Instead it opened its mouth and spat out a pale golden bolt of energy at her. 

The only thing that saved Mercury was that she'd seen a vitrimorph do it once before. The one back in the theatre; that had fired energy bolts, too. She saw the glow in its mouth and had a fraction of a second to dodge to one side. 

And that moment, once she was committed, caught in mid-move, was when it charged. 

It hit her like an express train, a massive blow that knocked the breath out of her and sent her flying as effortlessly as if it were swatting a fly. It did not even hurt; the shock was too great for her to feel a thing. Then she hit a wall, and that hurt a very great deal. 

She staggered to her feet, gasping with the pain, and looked around wildly. Somebody screamed a warning—Mars' voice—and she started to turn, but before she could complete the motion it was on her from behind. Glittering crystal filled her eyes; there was a sudden hot, wet feeling, and the world went black. 

She opened her eyes a second later, half-surprised to find that she still could. It was standing over her, looking down. One glassy fist was raised to strike—this blow would be the end, she knew—but for one instant it was motionless. _It's waiting for me to see it coming,_ she realised. _It's playing with me._

_No. Somebody is playing with me…through it._

Sparks danced across its body. Somewhere, Sailor Mars was making one last desperate attempt to save her. Mercury could have told her not to bother. The fist began to descend. 

Then a voice cried out, and the thunder answered. 

Mercury's eyes were filled with light. The vitrimorph flew backward, rolling end-over-end. Its body was lit up with a blue, electric glow. It hit the floor once, bounced, and again. The sound it made as it struck was like breaking glass. Mercury managed to get up on one elbow to watch as it ground to a stop. For a second, she dared hope. 

Then, once again, it started to get up. 

There were hands at her elbows, helping her up. Mars…and Jupiter, Jupiter, of course. "Took your time getting here, Hayashi," she managed to say. 

Sailor Jupiter grinned through the concern that was plain on her face. "You know how traffic gets," she said. 

"Excuses. Always excuses." Mercury coughed. Her ribs hurt. 

Jupiter nodded toward the vitrimorph. It was motionless for the moment, possibly sizing them up. It still glowed; but otherwise, if Jupiter's lightning bolt had hurt it, the damage was not visible. "What's the story?" she asked. 

"Nothing affects it," said Mars quietly. 

"Uranus' music thingy seems to bother it," Mercury corrected. "But it's too fast; she can't hit it for long enough to do the damage." 

Jupiter nodded, frowning. "Then if—" 

"However," Mercury said, unable to restrain a grin, "I do have a plan. And those—" she pointed—"are just the people I need to do it." 

Mars and Jupiter looked around. Uranus and Venus were coming toward them from a nearby staircase. Venus looked as bad as Mercury felt; her fuku was stained, her nose and upper lip were bleeding and she was limping. Her expression was undaunted, though. Uranus appeared…stern, but at the same time, oddly satisfied. Both of them looked glad to see Jupiter. 

In the distance, the vitrimorph stirred; then, with a prodigious leap, it bounded away and was lost to view. 

"So let's hear it," said Jupiter. 

Mercury's grin widened. It hurt her mouth; she probably had a smashed lip herself. But it was worth it. She continued to grin as she told them all what they were going to do. 

- - -

Five minutes later, Jupiter scouted through the hallways of the mall, keeping a wary eye open for the enemy. She had a giddy feeling of unreality as she went; it was like walking through a dreamworld. This mall should be a familiar place; she had been here dozens of times before. Some parts of it still looked the way she remembered. But so much of it was reduced to wreckage and rubble, half-lit, fire-damaged and streaming with water. Even places where the vitrimorph had never come were damaged, torn apart by the stress as the roof over the grand concourse had been torn down. 

Off to her left, something grated. Her distracted, almost fugue-like state vanished; her head snapped around, her hands rising, ready to throw lightning. After a second, she stepped gingerly in the direction of the sound. 

The grating noise came again, and this time she saw it: a broken length of wood, hanging from a cable that dangled from a gaping hole in the ceiling. As it swung to and fro, the cable rubbed against the edges of the hole, making the sound she had heard. Relieved, she started to turn away. 

Then she froze. It must have been hanging there for some time now. Why was it still swinging? 

The vitrimorph burst out through a broken shop window just ahead, thundering toward her at full speed. It was no longer glowing. Its arms were outstretched to grab her; its mouth was open, ready to fire another energy bolt. Floor tiles burst under its feet as it charged. 

Jupiter was already moving. She called out, "Supreme Thunder!" and felt the power collect on her tiara, then leap out at the monster. The vitrimorph tried to dodge but the lightning clipped its left shoulder, knocking it to the floor with a crash. It glowed blue once more. 

Before it could get up, Jupiter started to run. She tapped frantically on her communicator and yelled out, "It's here! I'm on my way!" In another moment she had ducked around a corner, just in time to avoid the monster's own returning fire. 

She was on the third floor of the mall, two levels up from where their rendezvous point. The quick way down would have been to jump from a balcony into the concourse; but that would have landed her in the massive pile of wreckage below. Instead she had to take the long path, with an enemy dogging her heels every step of the way. For a brief, insane moment she wished she were a runner like Haruka. 

The corridors and halls of Zarigani Mall became a nightmare, full of dim, flickering lights, the stench of smoke and the certainty of imminent death. Somehow she made it to a flight of emergency stairs and leaped down them eight at a time. The stairwell was narrow enough to slow the vitrimorph, but the lights was even worse than in the main corridors and she nearly broke her neck three times. Finally, chest heaving, she flung herself out on the ground level and sprinted across the gallery. An arm reached out and Sailor Uranus pulled her into cover behind a pile of broken boxes. 

A second later, there was an explosion from the direction she had come. Jupiter peeked through a gap between two boxes and saw the vitrimorph burst out of the stairwell. It came to a halt, the bear-like head turning this way and that. Looking for her. 

Silence fell. The vitrimorph took a step forward, then paused once more. A heap of burning books, spilled from the shattered façade of a nearby shop, cast ruddy glints from its body. 

On opposite sides of the gallery, Mercury and Venus stepped out of hiding. 

The vitrimorph saw them; it turned, very quickly, and then paused. Its head tracked from one girl to the other, then back again. The two Senshi were standing a good twenty meters apart; there was no way for it to face them both. It seemed to hesitate. 

Behind the boxes, Jupiter stirred: wanting to move, wanting to help, wanting to do anything but watch her friends in danger. Uranus' hand on her shoulder tightened, and she held still. 

Then, slowly and deliberately, Mercury took one step to her left. The vitrimorph shifted again, almost imperceptibly. 

Another step. And the vitrimorph _moved_, leaping toward her with terrifying speed…and came to a halt once more, as Venus took a step of her own, to the right. Widening the gap between the girls. It looked at Venus, and then back to Mercury. 

Sailor Mercury had frozen when Venus moved. Her body was stiff, tense. Now, she took another step to her left. 

At the same time, Venus stepped right. The vitrimorph's head turned from one side to the other. It moved a few metres toward Venus, then paused once more. 

"Just a little further," Uranus whispered. 

Mercury stepped left. The vitrimorph followed. 

Venus stepped right. The vitrimorph froze, then followed her. 

They were leading it on a zig-zag path, Jupiter saw: left to right, to and fro, but always forward. Just a little further… 

Together, Mercury and Venus stepped directly back. The vitrimorph surged forward, paused, and took one more step. Its foot came down, oblivious, in the pile of burning books. 

Mercury shouted, "_Now_!" 

And Sailor Mars stepped out of the bookstore. 

"Burning Mandala!" 

- - -

A wink of light, like a flash from a giant searchlight. A circular pattern of fire that etched itself across the floor of the gallery. It rotated, the lines shifting, wheeling, sweeping in toward the centre, faster and faster…and then, as it passed over the burning books, its colour changed, took on a darker cast. The air above it seemed to shimmer. The books flared up with a roar, and were gone. 

And the vitrimorph's leg began to glow a cherry-red. 

- - -

Uranus could feel the heat radiating from the circle. Even from this distance, it was like putting her face to an oven door. She blinked twice, her eyes suddenly dry. 

She had no idea why Mars' attack had suddenly become so powerful…but suddenly she began to see what Mercury had planned. 

Across the gallery, Venus was sprinting to help. But the vitrimorph was still moving; its leg shone red-hot, leaving glossy, liquid-looking marks on the floor tiles, but it continued to advance. Sailor Mercury took a few steps back, sudden apprehension on her face. 

Then Venus was at her side, and Mercury came to a halt. The two girls shared one quick, resolute glance. Mercury lifted her hands and shouted. At the same moment, Venus cried out words of her own. 

"Ice Spear!" "Venus Chain Thing!" 

Mercury's attack shot toward the vitrimorph—and in mid-flight, it was struck by Venus' chain. 

With an ear-splitting _crack_, the spear shattered. 

The vitrimorph was showered with countless tiny fragments of ice. 

Steam bellowed up with a roar. The vitrimorph groaned: not a vocal sound at all, but the sound of material stressed to the breaking point. Irregular white patches appeared across its leg. It took one more step forward, and Uranus could see the white patches splitting and reforming with a fragile grinding sound. 

At Uranus' side, Jupiter stood up. "Supreme Thunder!" she shouted; and a bolt of lightning struck the vitrimorph. There was a dull ringing sound, and its leg was blown completely off. Fragments of dark, semi-molten crystal sprayed across the floor, starting new fires of their own. 

The vitrimorph staggered, but still did not fall. Its arms reached vainly toward Mars. 

Uranus stepped out into the open. "Music of the Spheres," she said clearly. 

Her sonic beam caught the vitrimorph squarely between the shoulders and shattered it into a million pieces. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


A long, sullen hush descended upon the mall. Outside, the clouds thickened. It would rain by nightfall. 

Crowds of people were gathered around the twelve mall gates. Most of them had been inside when the attack began, but an increasing number were coming to watch the show. The police hovered nearby, but so far the people were well-behaved. 

As if on some unseen signal, the crowds stirred. Sirens wailed, and the emergency vehicles began to move in. Police began ordering the spectators to disperse. An Opal that had been hovering nearby veered off and began to move rapidly away. 

Over the next two days, fire crews from 'C' Division, ambulance teams from 'O', police units from 'P' and civil defence squads from 'W' combed the mall, inspecting the damage and searching for survivors. In all, only seven people died. Another sixty-eight received medical treatment; nineteen of them needed temporary hospitalisation. 

If it occurred to anybody that so many emergency services, drawn from four separate divisions, had been on hand very quickly—almost as if they had already been prepared—then at least nobody said a word. 

A full fifth of the mall structure would ultimately need repairs or total reconstruction. The process would take fourteen months. Dozens of retailers suffered damage to stock or fittings; some of the insurance claims would still be in arbitration four years later. The stock price of Yamada Holdings, who owned Zarigani Mall, dropped to a twenty-nine year low, though it eventually rebounded. 

Two hundred and fifty-three people saw the five Senshi leave the building and run off. Some of the watchers applauded; some did not. Two weeks later, the number of those claiming to have seen the girls depart was over a thousand. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


"Inventive of them," said the chairman. 

Number Twelve grimaced. "If you say so," she said. 

"You don't approve?" 

"They didn't fight as well as I'd expected. I had to hold it back, or it would have killed one or two of them." 

"Mm. Still, they do improve." 

"They have a long way to go. We need to push them harder yet. In the end, they'll have no alternative but to—" Twelve broke off, and smiled. "Give us what we want," she finished. 

The chairman hid a frown. "Very well," he said. "In the meantime, you've destroyed a mall, and done billions of yen worth of damage. You told me this was some kind of final test. I trust that it was successful, at least?" 

"Indeed. I'm waiting confirmation of that. In fact—" The commset on the desk buzzed, and Twelve smiled. "Here it is now, I suspect." 

The chairman watched as she touched a control in the commset. How had she known it was going to sound at that moment? 

"Araki here," she said. 

"Ah, Araki-sama," said a nervous voice from the desk speaker. "This is Iwahashi Toru. You had asked me to verify that—" 

"Of course," she said. Her voice had none of the colder tones it had held moments before. She sounded…human. "And your findings?" 

"Uh." Iwahashi, whoever he was, sounded flustered. "Well, I didn't find anything, really. I'm very, very sor—" 

"You _what_?" Twelve's face darkened. The chairman shied away from her imperceptibly. He had a feeling that the luckless Iwahashi was about to very luckless indeed. 

"I'm sorry, Araki-sama! But there just wasn't anything to see. She didn't do anything at all, honestly! The girl wasn't there at all, and Pappadopoulos just sat in her office the whole time!" 

"Ah." Suddenly the anger in Twelve's voice was gone. "Very well, Iwahashi-san. In that case, I'm sure you did your best. Good-bye." 

She switched the commset off again and turned back to the chairman. "You see?" she said. 

His brow furrowed in thought. "He said Pappadopoulos never left her office. But—" 

"But Sailor Mars was just fighting at Zarigani Mall. You see? Either Pappadopoulos isn't really Hino Rei, or—" 

"Or she isn't Sailor Mars any more," he realised. 

Twelve grinned. "Indeed. Either way, there is no longer any need to hold back, don't you think?" 

"Of course. I'll tell Takeda he can send his team in to arrest—" 

She held up a hand. "Not now," she said. "Tomorrow morning, I think." 

"Oh? Why?" 

"Haven't you studied the security reports?" Her voice was mocking. "Pappadopoulos has taken in a guest. A teenage girl who she only met two weeks ago. But out of the blue, she took this Hayashi Miyo in and seems to be treating her like a daughter. Don't you think that's interesting?" 

"Another Senshi?" he said. Number Three had mentioned the matter, earlier, but he had forgotten. 

"Almost certainly. This girl, by the way, was _not_ at home during the attack at the mall." 

"Which one is she?" he asked. "Shouldn't we arrest her as well?" 

Twelve shrugged. "Why?" she responded. "I don't know which one she is, but really, what does it matter? If we leave her alone, and arrest Hino while the girl is at school tomorrow…it may just spur her on a little. Don't you think?" 

She smiled, and the chairman was no longer able to restrain a shudder. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


There was a small park six blocks east of Zarigani Mall. A sheltered area in one corner, bordered by low hedges, held a children's playground. It was almost empty, even at this hour; three small boys were playing disspiritedly on the carousel, supervised by a bored-looking woman, but the evening was too hot and sticky for most. 

At one side of the playground, on a low, grassy bank, five girls sat speaking quietly among themselves. 

"It was a lot tougher than the ones we've fought before," said Miyo thoughtfully. 

"I thought it was never going to go down," said Beth. 

"But it did," said Suzue. "Though I'm still not sure why." 

Three heads turned to the fourth girl. 

The fourth girl shrank back a little from the sudden attention. "I—I didn't do anything special," Iku said nervously. "I just…attacked when Dhiti-san said…" 

Four pairs of eyes converged on the fifth girl. 

Dhiti buffed her fingernails on her shirt and inspected them with elaborate casualness. "I thought you'd never ask," she said. There was more than a hint of smugness in her tone. 

"What, do you want us to go down on our knees and beg for the answer?" snapped Suzue. 

Dhiti's eyes widened. "Would you really?" she asked hopefully. 

With a sigh, Miyo reached across and rapped her on the head with her knuckles, not gently. "Get on with it," she said. 

"Spoilsport." Dhiti leaned back and stretched, then coughed delicately. "Sorry; all that dust in my throat," she explained. "You know, maybe we could go somewhere and get a drink—? Oh, all _right_, Hayashi. Don't get your panties in a knot. What I did was, I worked out what Iku-chan's attack does." She stopped and beamed around at the other four. 

"That's all?" said Beth. 

"'That's all?'" Dhiti raised a supercilious eyebrow—somehow giving the impression that this was exactly what she had wanted someone to ask—and said loftily, "My dear cat-girl, not to blow my own trumpet, but I seem to recall that Itsuko-san herself was baffled by this very question, just last week—Ow! Hayashi, stop _doing_ that!" 

Suzue said, in a weary voice, "What she means is, she finally remembered to use her computer." 

"Geez, you take all the fun out of it, Suzue-san—" 

"I might, if you'd said anything funny." 

Dhiti stared at her. "Now, _that_ hurt." 

"Iku-chan's attack," said Beth thoughtfully. "It must be some kind of electric pulse, right? The way it made that Opal drop out of the sky last week—" 

"Aha! You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Dhiti's wounded look vanished in an instant. "Except that Sailor Mars uses fire, not electricity. Now if Hayashi had zapped that thing, it might make sense. Not Iku-chan." 

"So what did I do?" asked Iku in a soft voice. Her eyes were wide; she did not look nervous at all now. 

"Well you might ask." Dhiti beamed at her, and patted her hand. "What your attack does, my dear, is to _concentrate_ heat. It pulls in everything within its circle and focuses it toward the centre. On a cold floor, that doesn't do much. But when there was a pile of burning books for it to draw on—" 

"It felt like a furnace, even from a distance," said Miyo thoughtfully. 

"Right! You should have felt it close up." Dhiti glanced at Beth, who nodded. "As for that Opal…well, I don't exactly know how they work, of course. But it's not hard to guess that their engines must put out some heat." 

"It just burned itself out," murmured Beth. 

Suzue turned an incredulous look on Iku. "You'd better be _very_ careful with that attack," she said. "You could burn down the city if you weren't careful!" 

Iku shrank back. "Sorry," she said meekly. 

"You haven't done anything to be sorry for," said Miyo, giving Suzue a reproving stare. 

"No, but—" Suzue hesitated, then shook her head. "Never mind," she muttered. 

"You _will_ have to be careful how you use it, Iku-chan," Beth said judiciously. "But…well, I suppose most of our attacks are pretty dangerous, aren't they? When you think about it." 

"Maybe we should ask Bendis to train her," suggested Dhiti with a glint in her eye. 

"What, are you _insane_?" demanded Beth, sitting bolt-upright. "Wait. Don't answer that." 

The two laughed, and Miyo joined in. Even Iku smiled. Suzue rolled her eyes at the four of them, but leaned back in the grass, relaxed once more. 

Down in the playground, two of the boys had left the carousel and moved on to the swings. One of them was drifting back and forth in the usual way, but the other was standing on his seat and trying to get the swing to move with jerks of his body. He was not succeeding very well. 

"Actually, speaking of training," said Miyo slowly, "I have a message for you, Iku-san. Itsuko says she'd like you to start going to the Olympus for some sessions there." 

Iku stiffened slightly at the news. Her face lost all expression. She said, "Do I have to?" 

"What?" Miyo looked taken aback. "Well, I—" 

"Don't you think Iku-chan's already got that covered?" interrupted Dhiti. "You didn't see her today, Hayashi. She's…she just needs a little encouragement. Right?" She winked at Iku, and after a moment Iku smiled back. 

"Um…well, I can talk to Itsuko," said Miyo uncertainly. "Is there some kind of problem, Iku-san?" But Iku only shook her head, refusing to answer. 

"We're missing something about today's attack," said Suzue suddenly. 

Beth looked up, startled at the sudden turn. "What?" she asked. 

"It was too hard. It did too much damage." Suzue frowned, shaking her head. "Compared to other battles…do you see? If this vitrimorph was so tough, what about the other ones we've fought? Why were they so weak?" 

"It could just be a natural variation," said Beth tentatively. 

"Maybe. Or somebody's holding them back," said Dhiti. She scowled. "I'd almost forgotten. There was one point today where that thing could have gotten me, easily. But it just stood there waiting, until Hayashi hit it." 

There was a short silence. "So," said Miyo. "We already knew they were stronger than they looked. Now…it sounds like the person in charge has decided to ramp things up a bit. Make us work harder." 

"Training us," said Iku. 

Miyo stared at her. "Maybe," she said. "That's a nasty thought." 

"So what do we do about it?" mused Suzue. 

Beth gave a cynical laugh. "Do? We play along. What else can we do? Until we can find out who the 'person in charge' is." 

"Lady Blue," said Miyo. "If we could find her…damn it, I _know_ I've seen her somewhere before. Somewhere outside these attacks." 

"We didn't see her today," said Beth. "I wonder if she was there at all." 

"And if not," added Suzue, "what she was up to instead." 

They lapsed into silence again. Below them, the woman who had been supervising the children in the playground rounded them up, over their protests, and led them away. A hush fell, broken by the distant wail of sirens. 

Beth stirred at the sound. "Maybe we should move on," she said. 

"Probably," agreed Miyo. "It's been a long day." She stood up and stretched. 

The other four joined her and they started north from the park. Behind them, a column of smoke rose into the sky; but it was fading quickly. The streets were filling with rush-hour traffic. 

As they passed a viddy store Dhiti glanced in and saw that most of the screens were showing news stories about the mall. She looked around, and her eyes met Beth's. They exchanged nods and kept silent as the group walked on. 

It was a little past five o'clock. The air was still and close. The five paused and bought drinks in a little square that held a statue of Okwu Jan, the first man to circumnavigate the globe after the Fall. 

"Hayashi," said Dhiti as she finished her juice, "I meant to say. We called you away from your, um, meeting, didn't we? Sorry 'bout that." She glanced quickly up at Miyo, and then away again. "Did it…?" 

Miyo shook her head. "It's okay," she said. "I think…we'd said everything that needed saying." 

"Mm." Dhiti stared down at the paper cup in her hand. Her hand closed, crushing it, and she tossed the remains into a rubbish bin. She said, "Maybe it's time I went to a meeting myself." 

"Eh? What are you—oh!" Miyo's eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure?" 

Dhiti returned her look steadily. "Are you saying no?" 

Miyo did not answer at once. At last she said, "It's your decision." 

"…Thanks, Hayashi." Dhiti's lips twitched in something close to a smile. Then she looked around at the other three girls, who were listening with varying expressions of incomprehension. "I've got to go, you guys," she said. "See you later, 'kay?" With a brisk wave, she started away from the group in a brisk jog. 

"What," said Suzue, "was that all about?" 

- - -

Kin's music club met after school on Wednesdays. When she came out of the building, carrying the long leather case that held her instrument, she found Dhiti waiting for her. 

She eyed the dark-skinned girl warily. "Something on your mind?" she asked. 

"Sort of." Dhiti stared at her, looking oddly uncertain. At last she said, "Can we talk? In private?" 

Kin took her time answering. Something about Dhiti had changed, but it was impossible to tell what. As always, the girl was maddeningly elusive. But there was always the chance… 

Making up her mind, she said, "Sure." 

Turning, she led Dhiti back into the school building. She had an excuse to be in the music room, and it would be empty by now, so she headed for there. Dhiti followed silently. 

Inside the music room, Kin laid her instrument case down carefully and said, "So?" 

"Yeah." Dhiti bit her lip, then said, "There's something I haven't been telling you." 

Dryly, Kin said, "I'd noticed." 

"It's…kind of private. But I…can trust you, can't I?" Dhiti broke off suddenly, then said, "No. Don't answer that. I _can_ trust you. And you deserve to know." 

"Gee, thanks," said Kin. "So, what then?" 

Her friend brought her hand out of her pocket. She held a short rod, looking rather like a pen. One end was marked with a curious symbol: a western astrological sign, Kin thought. 

Dhiti glanced quickly over her shoulder. The room door was closed. Then, quietly, she said, "Mercury power, make-up." 

- - -

Beth, Suzue and Iku listened quietly as Miyo told them about the situation. When she had finished, none of them spoke for a few seconds. Miyo was glad of that. At least they weren't condemning Dhiti's decision outright. 

"Do you think she made the right choice?" Suzue asked at last. 

Miyo thought about it and said, "I don't think she made the _wrong_ choice. Kin-chan can be trusted." Then she added, "Within reason, anyway. I'm not suggesting we tell her who all of _you_ are." 

Although, she remembered a moment later, Kin had already heard their names. But it had only be a casual reference; she could easily have forgotten… 

"So," said Suzue cautiously, "if the rest of us have the same kind of problem, you think we can—" 

Miyo held up a hand. "Just…be sure," she said. "Be very sure that you can trust your friends. You can guess how much depends on it." 

"Not a problem for me," said Beth cheerfully. "Nana-chan and Eitoku-kun don't suspect a thing…right, Iku-chan?" 

Iku gave her a hooded look, and said nothing. 

Suzue said, "I…might have to tell my boyfriend. Not yet; it's not a problem yet. But I think he's noticed something." 

"Just let us know if you do," said Miyo. "Artemis and Itsuko may scream blue murder, but—" She shrugged. 

"This Naru must have been a good friend," said Beth. 

"Mm." Miyo smiled. "She was a nice girl. I wasn't so close to her myself, but…she was Usagi-chan's best friend, once." 

Suzue nodded. 

"So," Beth said suddenly, "how do you think Dhiti-chan's friend will take it? Will she be mad, do you think?" 

Miyo's face took on a curious expression. "Actually," she said slowly, "I think Dhiti-chan may be in for a bit of a surprise." 

- - -

"_What_?" Sailor Mercury demanded furiously. "What do you _mean_, Hayashi already told you?" 

- - -

Suzue's eyes widened. Beth burst out laughing. Iku smiled. 

"It was at lunchtime today," Miyo confessed. "The really ironic thing is, Dhiti-chan came along just after we'd finished talking about it…and she was, well, you know how Dhiti-chan is. So Kin-chan got mad and stormed off, and then the bell went, and…it just didn't seem the moment to tell Dhiti-chan about it." 

Beth continued to laugh. "If only I could see her face…" 

- - -

"I'm going to kill her," vowed Dhiti. She had changed back, more quickly than usual, when Kin started laughing. "Something slow and lingering." 

Kin smiled blissfully. "If only you could see your face," she said. 

"I don't want to see my face," Dhiti grumped. 

"That swirly bit when you change is kind of neat. A bit ecchi, though." 

"Don't make me hurt you, Kin-chan." 

"It must be quite a sight when you all change at once." 

Dhiti paused to think about that. The mental image was…disturbing. 

"Seriously, though," she said after a while. "You okay with this, Kin-chan?" 

"Did you know you're blushing?" asked Kin cheerfully. She ducked a swat. "Be that way, then.—Yes, I'm okay, you idiot! What did you expect, I'm going to slit my wrists over it?" 

"Well, not unless you really want to," Dhiti said generously. 

Kin made a rude noise. "In your dreams. It's not my fault if your talking cat chooses to overlook real quality in favour of—You, uh, do have talking cats, right?" 

"The trick is to get them to stop talking," Dhiti said with feeling. She had a sudden mental image of Artemis. He would probably have heard about the incident at the mall by the time she got home. The blasted cat was going to be unbearable tonight. 

"Cool. So, then—I have two important questions." Kin was starting to smile again. Actually, it was more like a smirk. "First: can I have your autograph?" 

"You couldn't afford my signing fee," said Dhiti loftily. "Next question." 

"What's it like to be a historic figure?" 

Dhiti raised her eyebrows. "Kin-chan. What are you thinking? I've _always_ been a historic figure." 

"Hmm. Point. How do you explain Miyo-chan, then?" 

With a sigh, Dhiti said, "Sometimes, you just have to take the rough with the smooth." 

"Funny. That's what she says about you." 

"Yeah, well, what does she know?" Dhiti broke off and gave Kin a look. "You _sure_ you're okay with this, Kin-chan? 

This time Kin did not answer immediately. At last she said, "I will be, Dhiti-chan. Give it time. At least…at least now I know why." 

Dhiti nodded. "Thanks," she said simply. Then she cocked an eye at her friend. "Actually, while you're thinking that over, there's something else you could be helping me with." 

Kin raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What's that?" 

"Concocting a suitable revenge on Hayashi." 

"Oh." She began to smile. "I think I can handle that." 

- - -

Miyo sneezed. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


Night rolled in, and the rain came with it in a torrential downpour. Across the city, gutters overflowed and pedestrians hurried along under their umbrellas, cursing their wet feet. Minor landslips were reported in hilly areas. 

In an apparently-unremarkable van parked a few blocks from the Olympus building, Captain Hiiro received an unwelcome signal from headquarters. He had been expecting it, and had planned accordingly, but this did not stop him from uttering a few curses of his own. Then he began to issue orders. 

Several kilometres away, the hacker known as Trio muttered under his breath as another lead petered out on his computer screen. His fingers danced furiously over his keyboard. 

In a suite above the Olympus, Hayashi Miyo briefed Pappadopoulos Itsuko on the fight at the mall. When told about Sailor Mars' new power, Itsuko was surprised. She had never heard of a Mars power like that, never. It was strange… 

And far, far down, in a place where the sun had never shone, a dim light pulsed. Faded. Pulsed. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


Iku went to bed that night jubilant. For once, nothing could drown her happiness. She was a Senshi, and she was, at last, worth something. She was needed. She had a place. 

Her elation lasted until the moment, as she finally fell asleep, when the dry, cold voice spoke in her mind. _This is not for you,_ it whispered. _You do not belong here. Your true future lies elsewhere._

And, just for an instant, she saw her path clearly; the long, long road she must follow, and the battlefield at sunset where it inevitably led. 

She awoke, and found her pillow wet with tears. 

- - -

Artemis dreamed of Crystal Tokyo. He walked the shining streets again, accepted the respectful looks from passers-by, and was content. The air was sweet and crisp, spring air. And when he looked up, he could see, a little distance ahead, a familiar figure waiting for him. The face most treasured, most loved. The eternal, cheerful smile. The long blonde hair. He started to run to Minako's side— 

The scene changed in mid-bound, and then, terribly, he was there at the end. Once more, unable to act, he saw her fall before the throne. Saw the king fall in his turn. Saw the queen's final transfiguration. 

Afterward, he walked with Serenity for a little, spoke with her, before she sent him away. In his dream he saw again how pale and unwell she looked, after months of inactivity; how clumsy, heavy on her feet. Her skin so pale it was almost translucent. And yet, the steel and the determination in her eyes; and, yes, the love. 

He saw her die again; and he saw what he had told nobody else, ever: how he had buried her, working alone in human form, the tears running down his cheeks. Lifted her fragile body, the weight more than he had expected, and laid her in the shallow grave. 

Lastly, most terribly: how he had returned, long afterward, to move her to somewhere more fitting. And found the grave empty. 

He awoke. 

It was past midnight. The rain was still beating hard against the windows, but otherwise the house was silent. He started to lie back down, but found he could not bear to do so. The memory of his dream was still too vivid. He had not thought of it in a long time; had avoided it whenever possible. 

Which meant, perhaps—as the new Sailor Venus had once said—that in truth, he had been thinking of little else. 

He got up from the cushion Dhiti had found him and prowled for a while, his feet silent on the wooden floors. This house was still full of unfamiliar smells; he let them distract him. At last, tired once more, he returned to Dhiti's room. 

He was drifting off to sleep again, warm and comfortable, when a voice jerked him wide-awake. He leaped to his feet, looking wildly around the darkened room. All was silent, and he wondered if he had imagined things. Then it came again: Dhiti's voice, and he realised that she was talking in her sleep. 

"No…it's not like that," she mumbled. "I'm not…" 

The words trained off into an incoherent tangle. He heard her give an odd half-gasp, almost like a sob. Then she turned over, and there was nothing but the sound of her breathing. 

He listened for another half an hour, but she said nothing more. At last he settled down once more and fell into an uneasy doze. 

- - -

And elsewhere in Third Tokyo, not that far from where a moon cat lay pondering his lot, a girl—or perhaps a young woman—knelt on the floor and stared up at the ghostly form that hung in the air above her. 

It was a figure of light and shadow, this apparition, its features misty, half-unseen. The girl found it hard to focus on. At times it was nearly solid; moments later it would almost vanish in the light from the wall lamp. 

But there were certain details about it that were hard to miss. It was unmistakably the figure of a woman. And it had wings…and two long pony-tails hanging from buns on either side of its head. 

The girl watched the phantom for a moment longer, her face absorbed, almost as if she were listening to it. Then she said, "So let me get this straight. You're the ghost of the old dead queen, and I'm the reborn soul of your daughter…and now you want me to go into the old family business. Is that it?" 

The ghostly figure seemed to incline its head gravely. There might have been a smile on its face. 

With a slight clatter, something rolled across the floor, stopping a few centimetres from the girl's knee. It was a small object: a brooch, with a circular emblem on the front. 

"All right," the girl whispered. "I understand. I'll do what you want." 

A shadowy hand reached out and rested for a moment, intangibly, on her head. Then, still silent, the ghost began to fade out of sight. 

Just before it was gone, the girl lifted a hand to touch her hair and said thoughtfully, "But there's going to have to be one important change made." 

Outside her window, there was a faint scuffling sound. 

- - - - - - -  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - - - - - -  


"I hate this," said Hiiro. 

"I know," said Kuroi. 

Masao remained silent. He wanted to agree with Captain Hiiro, but saying anything right now felt like a bad idea. 

The rain had lifted off during the night and the morning was bright and clear. That made it all feel worse, Masao thought. Dirty deeds should be done in the dark. 

They walked in through the main entrance of the Olympus building. Hiiro checked his watch, and Masao automatically looked down at his own. Ten fifteen; they were right on schedule. 

"She's supposed to be one of the good guys," said Hiiro. 

"Then why's she been playing with the Sankaku?" asked Kuroi. 

Hiiro sighed. "Yeah. I know." 

"If it comes to that, why's she even alive? After all, they say the queen and all the other Senshi got slaughtered in the Fall. But here's Hino, alive and well, not a mark on her…" Kuroi shrugged. "You have to wonder." 

Hiiro stared at him. "You think we should have reported this weeks ago, don't you? Back when we first saw Artemis." 

"Yes." 

"You didn't say anything." 

Kuroi gave him a quick glance. "I didn't have to," he said. "You knew what I thought. But you're the boss." 

Masao listened to them as the three walked up the stairs to the second floor. He wished he were somewhere else; anywhere. Even back in the old insurance office, before he'd been activated. 

A middle-aged woman wearing glasses looked up as they approached the gymnasium reception desk. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked. 

Hiiro pulled out a slim wallet from his jacket pocket and showed her the contents. "We're from 'P' Division," he said calmly. "We'd like to speak with Pappadopoulos-san, please." 

The woman was startled, then frightened. "Oh, dear," she said. She dithered for a moment, looking lost, then said, "I'll just call her. Won't you take a seat, please?" 

The three of them obeyed. As he sat, Masao tried to convince himself that everything was going to go smoothly, and failed. He thought about Mitsukai, waiting back at the doors with her taser. He thought about Aoiro, down in the underground car-park. He shuddered. 

Kuroi must have noticed. The burly man glanced at him and said under his breath, "Calm down, idiot." 

The woman at reception put down her commset and waved at them. She no longer looked worried. "Just go on up, then turn left," she said, pointing toward the stairs to the third floor. "Pappadopoulos-san will see you." 

Hiiro thanked her politely, and the three of them walked upstairs. At the top, a corridor to the right ran down the centre of the building. To the left, it took a sharp turn and ended in a door labelled with Pappadopoulos' name. Hiiro knocked briskly. 

A young-looking woman with short white hair, wearing a well-tailored business suit, opened the door. "Come in," she said pleasantly. "I'm glad to see you. I'm Pappadopoulos Itsuko." 

Hiiro and Kuroi exchanged surprised glances as they followed her into her office. Pappadopoulos did not notice; she continued, "I'd almost given up hope of hearing anything. It's been weeks since the break-in." 

Masao could not help himself. "Break-in?" he asked. 

That got her attention. She had been about to sit down at her desk; now, she turned and studied them all carefully. "You're not here about the break-in?" she said slowly. "I was burgled on the twenty-fourth; nearly a month ago now. But—Who are you people?" 

Hiiro shot Masao an angry look. Then he stepped forward and handed Pappadopoulos an identification wallet: not the same one he had shown downstairs. 

She studied it for a few seconds. "'S' Division?" she said. If she was not genuinely puzzled, she was an excellent actress. "What do you want with me, then?" 

Captain Hiiro took a deep breath. "There are two things I need to say to you," he said. "First, we know who you are." She showed no reaction, and he added, "We know that you are Hino Rei." 

Now she did react. Her body became quite still; all expression drained from her face. "And the second thing?" she asked levelly. 

"The second thing is that…by the authority vested in me as an officer of the security forces of Third Tokyo and of Japan, I am placing you under arrest." 

- - -

When Artemis awoke, his dream of the night before was still with him. He brooded about it for hours, prowling around the house until, driven to distraction, Dhiti's mother threw a wet sponge at him. His dignity mortally offended, he went outside; but even the sight and smell of the Sharmas' impeccable flower garden, alive in summer blossoms, could not drive the mental images away. He needed to talk to someone. 

Miyo would have been perfect; but she was in school, and he did not care to run a gauntlet of students. The same applied to all the others…except Itsuko. And going to see Itsuko, with the renewed danger at the Olympus, would be mad. 

He thought about doing it anyway. 

The answer was pretty obvious, he realised after a while. He could call Itsuko on her communicator, she could pick him up, and they could go somewhere and talk things over. They had a fair bit to discuss, even besides his dream. The previous day's attack, for example. 

He snaked his way through the city streets, heading for a convenient alley he knew; close to the Olympus, with plenty of privacy. He could call her from there, and wait to be collected. 

He had almost reached the alley when he started to get a bad feeling. 

It was hard to say what caught his eye about the little group of people climbing out of a van on the other side of the road. Four men and a woman; nothing exceptional about any of them. The van was completely nondescript. But something made him shrink back into the shadows. 

It might have been the way the five carried themselves, or the way none of them spoke as they moved off. Their faces were serious; one or two of them almost looked grim. And his fur was standing on end. 

He took another look at the van. It seemed familiar. 

He stared at it for a minute, trying to place the memory. Then, with a cold shock, he got it. The wheels were in place now, and all the side panels were there; the windscreen was clean. But it was still the same van that he had seen, several times, parked behind the Olympus. It was still the van that Bendis had jumped into, just a few days before, and nearly been captured. 

And those five people had been walking in the direction of— 

He threw caution to the winds and started to run. By the time he reached the Olympus only the woman was in sight: standing outside the main entrance, as if waiting. He cursed and ran down the side of the building; jumped up onto a low wall, and from there to the fire escape. He raced up to the third floor and paused for a moment, panting, under the window to Itsuko's office. 

He heard voices from inside. 

- - -

Her mind raced. She had always had to live with the possibility of being discovered; she had run through countless scenarios, time and time again. Being put under arrest had featured in lamentably few of them. 

Keep control. That was her only chance. 

"My name is Pappadopoulos Itsuko," she said to the three men. "You've made a mistake." 

The tall one who'd given her his ID shook his head. "No, Hino-san." He looked uncomfortable saying the name. "I don't think we have." 

He stepped forward and spread a sheaf of documents on her desk. She started to leaf through them; did not have to look far. They had been very thorough. The photographs of her past identities on their own were damning enough. 

At least, she thought distantly, he had not called her 'Lady Hino.' 

"Very clever of you," she said coolly. "Well, what of it? Why this nonsense about arrest? Is it some kind of crime to be thousands of years old?" 

The question ruffled him, as she had hoped. His mouth opened and closed; for the first time, he looked unsure of himself. But then the third man, the burly one with the unshaven stubble, opened his mouth. 

"No, that's not a crime," he said. There was a subdued anger, a danger, in his voice. He would be a bad one to cross. "But how about forgery? How about fraud? Are they enough for you?" 

"Forgery!" 

"Is that your real name on your ID? How about on this building's ownership papers? There are probably tax charges there, too, if it comes to that." 

She stared at him. "You can't be serious." 

He shook his head; but the hardness in his eyes did not diminish. His voice remained cold, matter-of-fact. "No. Those are just the icing on the cake. The real charge is conspiracy against the government of Japan." 

Never, never in her maddest nightmares of discovery had she dreamed of this. She had expected an invasion of newsies; questions, cameras, the full weight of the world's attention. Or perhaps a slyer approach: the knowing smile; blackmail; even the suggestion of sexual favours in return for silence. Or finding the Loonies camped out on her doorstep; or public revilement, or death threats; or a hundred other variations. But never— 

"Conspiracy? Are you out of your mind!" 

The first man, Hiiro, had recovered his poise. He shook his head at her, and she realised belatedly that the same look of danger was in his own eyes, though in him it was better-hidden. 

"You shouldn't have done it, Hino-san," he said. "For someone with your record, your stature…you shouldn't have started working with the Sankaku." 

"The Sankaku! But I—" 

"Please," he said impatiently. "I'm not here to discuss the evidence. All I want to know is: are you coming peacefully, or not?" 

She stared at him, her mind churning, close to panic. If they thought she was Sankaku they would be merciless. She saw visions of prison cells, of star chambers. Endless interrogations; perhaps worse things. Even if she could persuade them she was no Sankaku, there were still the other charges, and more that they had not mentioned; and of those she was undeniably guilty. 

In the end, there was no alternative. She could not afford to be imprisoned. Not when the enemy was at work. 

"You're making a mistake," she said. "And I can't come with you." As she spoke, she slipped the drawer of her desk open. 

They saw the movement; of course they would. Suddenly there were weapons pointed at her. Her heart froze. It came to her, in that moment, that she knew this scene; she had dreamed it, long ago. 

"Relax, gentlemen," she said mildly. "It isn't a gun." 

And she pulled out her henshin wand—holding it so they could see what it was—and then raised it up and cried out, "Mars Crystal Power, Make-Up!" 

They flinched back. 

That was her only chance: that they would know what to expect. It gave her a fraction of a second to act. She ducked down, put her shoulder under the desk, and heaved it at them. They reeled at the impact, and she leaped past them to the other door, the door into her suite, and ran for her life. 

But they were trained men. They recovered too fast. She was half-way down the corridor when she heard a voice shout, "Hold it!" 

She stumbled to a halt, barely three metres from safety. One last glance at the door ahead of her, just out of reach. Then she turned back. The tall one, Hiiro, was pointing a gun at her. She knew he would not miss. She raised her hands. 

A voice shouted, "_Nooooooo_!" 

Something hit Hiiro in the face. He staggered, shouting in surprise; his gun went flying. A white cat clung to him, clawing and spitting and biting. He yelled again, this time in pain, trying to shield his face. Then, with a heave, he flung the cat away from him. It landed on the floor between him and Itsuko. 

Artemis stared at her for an instant. There were crimson flecks on his muzzle. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted. "Run!" 

He whirled and darted back through the office door, headed for the window and safety. There was a strange _chuff_ing sound. Behind him, Captain Hiiro wiped blood from his eyes and turned a maimed face back to Itsuko. Then he dove for his gun. 

Itsuko turned, opened the door, and ran. 

It was the door to her private staircase—the same one Miyo had used to get in, weeks before. Itsuko had had it built when she first moved into the Olympus, decades ago. Always have an escape exit; a lesson she had learned well. As she hurtled down the stairs, two or three at a time, she could hear Hiiro pounding after her, not far behind, and she knew she had not escaped yet. 

Four floors down, another door opened into the underground car park. She flung it open and sprinted toward her car. 

Another figure stepped out of the shadows: blond, lantern-jawed. She had seen him before, in the gym. Behind her, Hiiro shouted, "Aoiro! Stop her!" 

He moved toward her smoothly, competently. Another agent, no doubt well-trained in subduing escaping prisoners. Another dangerous man. Itsuko ducked her head, stuck her shoulder out, and hit him at waist-height. He folded over her with a strangled wheeze. She flipped him over her shoulder, into the path of Hiiro, and ran on. 

She might not be a Senshi any more. But she had been a survivor for centuries. 

She abandoned the car. They would be on her before she got the door open, and she had no chance against two men at once. She sprinted for the exit ramp. Behind her, too quickly and far too close, came two sets of footsteps. 

Two flights of concrete ramp; an up-hill running race, against armed men. She staggered out into the street, gasping for breath, knowing they were catching up, and looked around wildly. 

Nowhere to hide. Off to one side, from the direction of the building's main entrance, another figure was sprinting toward her: a woman, this time. More reinforcements. She was lost. 

Then, suddenly, the furious whine of an engine. A deep blue car roared around the corner, its horn buzzing, and screeched to a halt directly in front of her. The door opened and a well-known voice shouted, "Get in!" 

Itsuko's eyes widened. "Setsuna…?" 

But there was no time. Even as she spoke, she raced forward and threw herself into the vehicle. The green-haired woman at the wheel floored the accelerator and they surged away. 

Hiiro and Aoiro ran out of the car-park, just too late. The car disappeared around a corner and was gone. 

- - -

And in Itsuko's office, two men looked down at the tiny bundle on the floor. "Not a bad shot, if I say so myself," Kuroi said with some satisfaction. 

From between the strands of netting, Artemis stared back at them. 

Masao swallowed. "Right," he said. "Only…now what do we do with him?"

- - -

**SAILOR MOON 4200**  
**END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**Next:** Two escapes, some questions answered, a new life, and a quest for the ashes of the old.

- - -

Sincere thanks to the pre-readers who helped improve this chapter: David   
McMillan, Jed Hagen, Aaron Nowack, Helmut Ott, Elsa Bibat, Bert Miller,   
Chris Angelini, AnimeJanai, and Steve "Komodo" T. 


	14. Chapter 12: Night Raid

**What has gone before:**

Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in the year 3478. Civilisation fell; a dark age began. Now, the year 4200 is a time of renaissance, and the city of Third Tokyo is defended by a new generation of Senshi. Some of them are old faces, reborn yet again. Others are newcomers. But all of them are in trouble—because the enemy that annihilated Crystal Tokyo was never defeated. And it is waiting for them…

**In recent chapters:**

The five Senshi are together at last, under the mentorship of Artemis, his great-granddaughter Bendis, and Itsuko. After an accidental battle at an abandoned warehouse, the Senshi erroneously conclude that they are being opposed by the criminal Sankaku Clans. Suzue, a member of a sect that worships Queen Serenity, continues to debate the issue with Itsuko; and the two begin to develop a tentative friendship. Artemis is forced to leave the Olympus after an 'S' Division raid, and ends up living with Dhiti. Number Thirteen starts to investigate her fellow members of the Serenity Council. Beth makes peace with her friends, and Miyo begins a cautious reconciliation with her brother. Hideo forms a "Senshi Watch" of young school children, dedicated to secretly observing the Senshi and trying to find out who they are. After much discussion, Miyo and Dhiti finally reveal to Kin that they are Senshi. During a battle at a local shopping mall, in which half the mall is demolished, Iku's new powers as Sailor Mars are finally made clear. The 'S' Division team realise that Itsuko is the former Hino Rei, and—believing that she is working with the Sankaku—are sent to arrest her. Itsuko flees the Olympus, and is rescued by Sadako. And an unidentified girl is given a familiar brooch by a spectral figure resembling the dead Queen Serenity…

* * *

**Sailor Moon 4200**

By Angus MacSpon

_Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi_

**Chapter Twelve**

_Night Raid:  
Flight, Faith and Flame_

The car moved at a steady pace through the streets of Third Tokyo. Once they were well away from the Olympus building, Sadako had slowed down to the speed limit. Now, she waited for her passenger to catch her breath before speaking.

"I told you I'd see you again before long," she said.

Itsuko's face was pale and sweating, but she managed a weak grin. "Yes, but somehow I didn't picture…quite these circumstances."

Sadako did not smile back. "No, neither did I," she said. She sounded almost angry.

"What?"

"Never mind." She spared Itsuko a quick look, then turned her attention back to the road. "What about you? Are you all right?" she asked.

Itsuko drew a long, shuddering breath, and relaxed back in her seat. "Not too bad," she said. "Sorry. It all came as…a shock."

Sadako glanced at her again. "No. Seriously."

"Really. I'm fine. I mean, they shot at me, but they didn't hit me—" Itsuko caught her breath. Then, suddenly, she lashed out, punching the dashboard in front of her with all her strength. The glove compartment burst open, showering her with a collection of maps, tissues and other junk. She swore viciously, rubbing her fist, and pushed it all off onto the floor. "Don't be ridiculous," she said venomously. "Of course I'm not all right! They know who I am! _I can't go back_!"

Sadako nodded. Her eyes were back on the road.

"Damn them," Itsuko swore. "It's all gone, isn't it? I can't go back to the Olympus. They'll be watching; they'd be on me in a flash. I can't even use the same _name_ any more." She turned a burning look on Sadako. "And you have the nerve to ask if I'm all right? What the hell do you think?! I just lost my home—the place where I've lived for nearly sixty years—and everything I own. My livelihood. And my name. And all to a bunch of idiot men who thought I was playing with the bad boys!" Her voice had risen to a piercing roar. "Of _course_ I'm not all right!"

Sadako only nodded again, her expression not changing. She drove on in silence. At last, Itsuko flung herself back in her seat. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's okay," Sadako said. A moment later she added, "I'm sorry I was so long coming."

"At least you were there," Itsuko said bitterly. Glancing over at the other woman, she gave her a twisted grin. "You always did like to arrive at just the right moment."

Sadako did not answer at once. At last she said, "No, that wasn't it. I literally did not see this coming…until almost too late."

"Oh." Itsuko thought about this. Then, deliberately changing the subject, she said, "Where are we going?"

"Where would you like to go?"

Itsuko rubbed a hand across her eyes. "God, Setsuna, don't go playing games, please. I can't stand it right now."

"No game this time." The corners of Sadako's mouth twitched slightly. "I can take you wherever you want. If…you need it, you're welcome to stay with me for a while. Until you find your feet again."

"I—I don't know." Itsuko leaned back, shading her eyes. "It's…everything's moving too fast." She paused. "What I really want right now is a nice hot cup of tea."

Unexpectedly, Sadako chuckled. "That, at least, I can offer you," she said.

She signalled and turned left. The car began to take a more purposeful route; they passed out of the residential district they had been moving through and started to head consistently north-west.

"I wish Artemis would call in," Itsuko said, half to herself. "Just to let me know he got out okay."

* * *

Captain Hiiro stared around the office. "Well, that was about as botched an operation as I've ever seen," he said coldly.

Kuroi, Aoiro, Mitsukai and Kitada looked back at him. None of them had anything to say.

Hiiro lifted a handkerchief and dabbed at his cheek, which was still bleeding. His face was covered with scratches and claw marks, and he was holding one eye half-closed. "At least," he rasped, "we have _something_ to show for it. If not what we were sent for."

He glanced over at Itsuko's desk, now set upright again after the struggle. A small form lay on it, wrapped firmly in the strands of a net. Through the mesh, a pair of eyes glared.

Artemis was staring at him, with a look that suggested that he would like to deal out more scratches…and worse.

"Good reaction there with the net gun, Ryo," Hiiro said. Kuroi nodded without speaking. Hiiro crouched down to look the cat in the eyes. "Nothing you want to say?" he asked lightly. "About where she might have gone, for instance?"

Artemis did not reply. Hiiro sighed and straightened up, wincing at the pain the movement caused in his damaged eye. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't know how to interrogate a cat anyway…and I'm sure as hell not about to try," he muttered. Turning back to the others, he asked wearily, "Mitsukai, are you sure you didn't get a look at the car? Or the driver?"

The gaunt woman shook her head. She could not meet his gaze. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice.

He sighed. "All right. Let's get moving, then." Addressing them all, he said, "Start combing this place. You know the drill: address books, comm numbers, records. Keep an eye open for anything that might give a hint where she's gone. And make it fast, people; we don't know if she's coming back with friends. Kitada, you stay here; I have a job for you."

As he spoke, he pulled out a pocket comm and touched a quick series of keys. "Meanwhile," he finished in a flat tone, "I get to face the music."

The others took the hint, and got busy. Kitada hovered nearby uncertainly, but Hiiro ignored him for now.

Into the comm he said, "Good morning, Colonel. Nice to talk to you. How have you been?" He had to hold the comm away from his ear for a moment. "Yes, and you, too. Sir, I have some bad news, and some…other news. Maybe good."

Honesty made him add, "Probably not, though."

- - -

Hiiro's report filtered its way quickly up the chain of command. Colonel Shiro passed it, reluctantly, to his superior, who passed it on to hers, who passed it on to the head of 'S' Division. But the head of 'S' Division was also Number Three of the Serenity Council…and he passed it on to the chairman.

The chairman considered the news for some time. They had dispatched Opals to look for the fugitive car, naturally, but nobody expected them to find anything. In the meantime there was a more difficult question to consider.

The cat-search had at last borne fruit, if not quite the cat they had been expecting. The question was, did they still want moon cats at all?

They had, after all, begun the search back before any Senshi had appeared. Back then, the cats were the only option available. Now, they had much better alternatives.

He could have asked Twelve what to do. But he had been serving the Master's will himself for a long time now; and the question was certainly easy enough. Was there anything to be gained by bringing Artemis in?

When he thought about what they were trying to do, the answer was just as easy. How could there _not_ be?

He gave the order.

- - -

A car pulled out of the Olympus garage. Inside, Masao looked down for a moment at the cage on the seat next to him. From behind the bars, the cat stared back at him silently.

He glanced away hastily and returned his eyes to the road. A lot of things that had been happening lately made no sense. This, perhaps most of all.

To begin with, there was learning that Pappadopoulos Itsuko was actually Hino Rei. Masao had been a member of the Olympus gymnasium for a long time; he had even been in one of the group sessions that Itsuko led, a year or two ago. To think that his aerobics instructor was secretly one of Queen Serenity's closest friends was…surreal.

Then they were ordered to arrest her, which made it worse. They were told that Hino Rei was a criminal. He had seen the evidence himself; he had even helped to gather some of it, and the conclusions were hard to deny. But it felt bad.

For a while he had hoped that there had been a mistake—some kind of incredible coincidence, that the woman they were investigating might not be Hino after all. But she had admitted it; she had actually admitted to being thousands of years old. And then she had pulled out what could only have been a henshin wand, and transformed into Sailor Mars.

Except that she hadn't transformed.

Something, somewhere, was horribly wrong.

Then Hino escaped, with the help of…the cat. Artemis, it had to be Artemis; but Masao did not even want to think about that. Was he supposed to believe that Artemis was a Sankaku agent, too?

Well, when in doubt, follow orders. Captain Hiiro was a man Masao admired, and he could be counted on to know what to do. But even Hiiro had been thrown by the whole affair; you could see it in his eyes. He had recovered, and his orders had been clear enough, but still…he had his doubts. He, too, realised that the whole situation didn't add up. It didn't make sense.

What Masao was doing now should have made perfect sense. The cage, hastily brought in from the van, was safer than leaving the cat wrapped in netting; less chance of the prisoner choking during transport. And it made sense that Masao should be the one to take him, because the rest of the team had to search the apartment, quickly, and get as much evidence out as possible in case the rest of the Senshi arrived to help Hino. It even made sense that Masao should take Hino's own car, using the keys from her desk drawer, because the van would be needed to transport the evidence.

The fact remained that he was transporting Artemis, one of the heroes of Crystal Tokyo, as a prisoner. And that made no sense at all.

"I'm sorry," he said to the cat. "I don't want to do this. Really."

"Then why are you?" the cat asked.

The car swerved, almost hitting a lamppost before Masao got it under control again. He glanced down at the cat, then hastily back to the road.

"Um," he said. "Sorry."

Unbelievably, Artemis chuckled. "I used to get that a lot, actually," he said. "Back in the old days."

"In Crystal Tokyo?" Masao asked. He could not help himself.

"Oh, yes. People knew what to expect, but it still threw them." He paused. "Funny thing, though. I might have made them nervous, but they never tried to arrest me for it."

Masao shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. "I know," he said. "And I'm—"

"Sorry? Yes, you said. But you never answered me. If you don't want to do this, why do it?"

"Because…because…" Masao trailed off. "I don't know," he said miserably. "Because of…her, I suppose. Hino-sama."

"Ah." There was gloomy satisfaction in Artemis' voice. "Kitada-san, you do know that the idea that Itsu—that Rei is involved with the Sankaku is ridiculous, don't you?"

"I—" Masao bit his lip. If Hiiro knew that he was talking about this with the cat, he would kill him. "I saw the evidence," he said at last.

"You _saw_—!" Artemis broke off. "What evidence?"

Masao shook his head.

"Dammit," the cat exploded, "this is not some two-bit thug you're talking about! It's Hino Rei! One of Queen Serenity's own Senshi, and one of the greatest heroes in recorded history! What can _possibly_ make you think that she would—"

"She was seen," Masao whispered.

"She—seen _what_?"

He pulled over to the side of the road so that he could look at the cat properly. "Seen," he said through clenched teeth, "meeting with known Sankaku agents. Dealing with a known Sankaku business front. And using Sankaku counter-espionage techniques and equipment. Artemis-sama…there's really no doubt about it."

Artemis stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"It's true.—I'm sorry."

The cat began to pace furiously back and forth in the cage. "This has got to be some insane kind of mistake," he said tightly. "The idea that Rei would be mixed up with—that she would even consider—it's—" He let out a breath. "It's ridiculous."

Masao shook his head. "I wish I could believe that."

"You can!"

"How?" Masao insisted. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I _know_ her, you fool!" Artemis roared. "I've known her for longer than you can imagine, I know her _better_ than you can imagine, and _I know you're wrong_!" He faced Masao, his eyes blazing, his fur bristling, for a moment that seemed to last forever. Then, slowly, he relaxed.

"And none of that matters," he said softly, "because she's already been tried and condemned. Isn't that right?"

"What? No!"

"Oh? Haven't you already made up your own mind? Isn't that what you've been telling me?"

"I didn't—"

"So what will it be? Some sham of a trial? A media circus, of course; the great Hino Rei brought low! Or perhaps that might be inconvenient. Far better to just lock her up and throw away the key."

"No," said Masao, almost pleading. "I—I don't—"

"And what about me? I suppose I'm guilty by association? Not that I'll get a trial, of course. I'm just a cat. I'll probably just get locked away in some—" Artemis paused, and looked around deliberately. "Cage."

Masao's mouth opened and closed several times. He groped for words—for a way to say, no, that wasn't what he wanted, that he would give anything to avoid it. But at the same time, he knew that it was exactly what he was supposed to do…and what he was doing right now. He was poised on the knife-edge, and there seemed no way to escape.

Then he looked again at Artemis and saw, to his wonder, that the cat understood.

"It's hard to know what to believe, isn't it?" Artemis said gently.

A nod.

"You're afraid that your heroes have feet of clay."

Masao nodded again.

"I've got news for you. There was never a hero who didn't, not even the best of them. But they were heroes anyway, Kitada-san, in spite of their flaws. Maybe even because of them.

"Being true to their hearts, Kitada-san, that's what made them heroes. It sounds trite, clichéd, I know; but that's the long and the short of it. That's what makes a real hero: someone who stands true. No matter what."

The white cat fell silent. The two remained looking at each other for some time. Then, at last, Masao nodded.

"I understand," he said.

He had told himself that he was simply obeying orders; that he had no choice. But the truth was, the choice had never left him. And once he realised that one simple fact, the decision was so easy to make.

In the end, it simply did not matter what Hino might or might not have done…because Hino was not the one being judged. Right here, right now, that was not Hino Rei, but Artemis…and Masao, too.

It made sense. And knowing that, he made his decision.

He reached past the cage and opened the car passenger door. Then, carefully, he unhooked the cage door and pulled it up. Artemis stepped gingerly out onto the seat.

The cat gave Masao a quizzical look. "Will you be all right?"

Masao smiled. "Oh, yes," he said. "There's just one thing I have to do, and then it'll be fine."

Artemis stared at him for a long moment. "We all make our choices, don't we?" he said cryptically. "And stand by them." He turned to go, then hesitated and looked back at Masao one last time. "Tell me…have you ever met a woman wearing dark blue, with a glowing jewel in her forehead?" he asked.

"What? No. Why, who is she?"

"Hmph. Nobody…safe. Stay away from her, if you can. Good luck."

In another moment, the cat had leaped out the door, and was moving quickly away down the street. Masao watched him go for a moment. He felt…warm. At peace.

But there was one more thing left to do.

He reached over and pulled the car door closed, leaving it half-latched. Then, with some effort, he leaned on the cage in the passenger seat, putting his full weight against it. It buckled quite satisfactorily. He studied it for a moment, and nodded.

Then he took his seat again, and made sure that his safety belt was securely fastened. He started the engine, put the car in gear, and started forward at a brisk pace. The road ahead was long and straight; for the moment, it was empty of traffic.

He took a deep breath and accelerated to full speed. As he passed through an intersection, he threw the steering bar to the left, hard. At the same time, he stood on the brakes.

The car skidded nicely. The last thing he saw was a solid stone wall, coming toward him horribly fast.

* * *

Sadako pulled up outside a little cafe overlooking the harbour. They went inside and ordered tea. As they sat down, Itsuko saw that they had the place almost to themselves.

They sat without speaking for a few minutes. The tea was not particularly good; but it was hot, and it was what Itsuko needed. She could feel herself relaxing as she drank.

After a little Sadako said quietly, "I suppose you have questions."

Itsuko gave her a wry smile. "Where do I start?"

Sadako took another sip from her cup. Her cool red eyes studied Itsuko in silence. Then she said, "Wherever you please. At this point, there is…very little I will not answer."

"You—what?" Itsuko stared. "Why?"

"I do not keep secrets without reason. You should know that, Rei." Itsuko frowned at the name, and Sadako added, "Itsuko, then. Or would you prefer another name, now?"

"…Never mind that. Go on."

"Very well. The last time we met, you accused me of never speaking clearly. Then you told me that, after seven hundred years on your own, you thought perhaps you could understand my point of view."

"And you told me to wait twenty times as long—"

"Yes." For a moment Sadako's eyes narrowed testily. "I was speaking metaphorically, as I think you understood. But that is beside the point. I take the long view, as I must. Sometimes, often, to say too much too early would be to prevent the end we are working for."

"The end justifies the means? Is that it?"

"Justifies? Hardly. The means brings about the end—as always." She shook her head, and there was something like regret in her eyes. "I leave justifications to…those who have a little idealism left."

Itsuko looked at her steadily. "Don't underestimate yourself."

"…Thank you." The Senshi of Pluto glanced away for a moment. "In any case, the current situation is different. The ends…are no longer visible to me. My sight is running out."

"Running—" Itsuko froze. "What do you mean?"

Sadako quietly refilled her cup from the pot. "Just what I said," she replied. "My perception of the timelines is clouded, and becoming more so. Every day, I can see less. We are approaching some kind of crisis point, and I cannot see the way forward."

For a minute, Itsuko could only stare at her. "That…doesn't sound good."

"It is very much like going blind," Sadako said tersely.

"No, I meant—oh." Itsuko felt herself flush. "I'm sorry."

"I know what you meant. Again, it is beside the point." Sadako sipped her tea, made a face, and said, "Let's go outside."

Itsuko tried her own tea, found it cold, and stood up. They paid, left the cafeteria and headed down toward the waterfront. The road ran around the side of a hill; to their left, bordered by a low stone wall, a steep bank dropped down to the docks and wharves below. The two women paused, leaning on the wall and looking out across Tokyo Bay.

It was half past eleven. Traffic was light, and there were few people around. A pleasant breeze was blowing in from the water.

"I can still see some things," said Sadako at length. "Less than before, though, and it grows more difficult. I held off your…encounter this morning for as long as I could, but in the end I could not prevent it."

Itsuko gave her a startled look. "_You_ held—" She broke off. "How?" she asked.

"'S' Division has been investigating the Olympus building for some time. I'm really not sure why. But there was an excellent chance that they'd stumble onto your identity sooner or later, so I planted a false computer trail about the building's ownership. It kept them sidetracked for a while."

"Well, thanks," Itsuko said, suddenly angry. "I suppose your hacking is what made them think I was Sankaku at all!"

"No. Actually, I believe they started to suspect that when they learned that you'd called in Okuda Jiro."

"Jiro! What does Jiro have to do with this?"

"Itsuko," said Sadako patiently. "Okuda Jiro _is_ a Sankaku member."

"…Oh." Itsuko's eyes widened. She had known that Jiro was a crook, but she had certainly never suspected this. It was like learning that someone she thought was a housebreaker was really a Mafia don. She fell silent, working out the implications.

"Yes. That much, I did manage to learn. But I could not cover up for you forever. I knew you'd be found out eventually, but I could not see the details of _how_. I didn't even find out about Jiro until three days ago. I did what I could to give you more time—I erased the recordings they'd made of you and the building, for example. But I still don't know what finally brought them down on you. And I did not see them coming for you this morning until almost too late."

Itsuko did not speak for a long time. At last she said, "I've been rather stupid."

"Very much so," Sadako agreed.

Itsuko started to bristle; then, slowly, she made herself relax. Under Sadako's steady gaze, she worked it all through: the full, damning history of her folly. The number of times she had ignored evidence that she was being watched—the cameras; the bugs; even the comm call from Ochiyo, right back at the beginning, to say that someone was asking questions about her cat poster. The madness of allowing Artemis to return to the Olympus, when she already suspected that he was being hunted. Was there any hint that she had not missed?

"I thought I was being so careful," she said bitterly. "The truth is, I didn't _want_ to see. Because seeing would mean that I'd have to leave—just when I'd finally found a home again, after so long."

"It is difficult," Sadako admitted. There was an odd note in her voice, so fleeting that Itsuko almost missed it. Then, suddenly, she wondered: how often had Sadako faced the same situation herself?

"Why didn't you warn me?" she asked, unsure which question she was asking: about the mistakes she had made; or the other, deeper pain, of living on while others died; of never daring to stay in one place for too long; of always having to stand apart.

"Would you have listened?"

"Maybe. I—" She shook her head, realising. "No, I suppose not. I'd just have made other mistakes, wouldn't I? I didn't want to know."

Sadako did not answer. Itsuko straightened up and started to walk again, and after a few moments the older woman followed her.

"You never did say why you're suddenly willing to tell me everything," Itsuko said at last.

Sadako gave a sudden, dry laugh. "Didn't I? I thought that's what we've been talking about. You told me you could understand, Itsuko, and maybe you're right after all." She drew a long breath. "We are nearing the singularity—the pivot on which the future turns—and I cannot see what must occur."

"But why _not_?"

"I'm not sure." Sadako made a face. "No, that's not entirely true. I suspect that our enemy is responsible, but I cannot see the details. And there are other possibilities. I could only be certain by using the Time Gate, and that is—"

"Sealed. You said."

"Yes. Itsuko, don't you see? The very last future event I've seen is…not so far away now. After that, I am blind. And if I cannot see the way we must follow, then—" She made a vague, frustrated gesture. "There is only judgement to rely on. And the circumstances do not permit ego; I must admit that yours is as likely to be correct as mine."

She turned cool, crimson eyes on Itsuko. "Now do you understand? I will tell you what you want to know…and the price is that you, too, must bear the burden of the future." With a faint, mocking smile, she added, "Be careful what you ask for."

* * *

Artemis had not gone far when he heard the long screeching sound, and the sharp crunch of impact. He stopped and pricked up his ears automatically. An instant later, he realised what must have happened.

He turned and hurried back up the road, moving as fast as he could. Even so, it took him several minutes to catch up with the car.

By the time he arrived, a small crowd were already standing around, looking at the wreck and talking in quick, low voices. None of them were the heroic type, it seemed. He snaked his way past them and approached the car cautiously.

A quick sniff of the air, before he got too near. An electric car had no fuel to leak, of course, so there was no danger of fire, but there were other things scent could tell him. He might be able to smell ozone from a sparking battery, for example. Or human body fluids.

The windscreen and the driver's-side window had shattered. He jumped up on the bonnet and looked inside. Kitada was slumped forward in his seat, unconscious. There was blood on his face and shirt, but he was breathing. Artemis noticed that his seat belt was fastened. It had not been, when the man had freed him.

"Brave soul," he whispered. Had Kitada been trying to manufacture an excuse? Or to kill himself? Artemis might never know.

Far off, a siren began to wail. The voices of the crowd grew louder and more excited. The cat looked around, then remembered where he was. He jumped down from the car and hurried away. Nobody got in his way. Why would they?

He had only gone a little distance when he remembered that he still did not know if Itsuko had made it away safely. He started to look around for a concealed spot so that he could call her.

* * *

Itsuko took a deep breath. She was, she realised, about to cross a line. Perhaps a better metaphor would be jumping headlong into a chasm, with no idea of the depth or whether there was anything to break her fall. And yet, turning back would be…

"All right," she said. "First question. Why did you disappear like that in Crystal Tokyo, right when things started going bad?"

_Right when Princess Usagi died,_ she did not say. Or perhaps, _Right when we needed you._

Sadako only lifted an eyebrow. "Now you've disappointed me," she said. "You should have worked that out for yourself, long ago."

"I should—? No; never mind. Just answer the question, okay?"

"Itsuko," Sadako said patiently. "What was the enemy's great power? What was it that made it so dangerous?"

"Well—those monsters, the crystites. Ami-chan worked out that it could control anything crystal."

"Indeed. Tell me, then: perhaps you remember my staff?"

Itsuko glared. "What is this, twenty questions? Of course I remember it. Big thing, shaped like a key."

"And at the top of the staff?"

"Eh? There was that big, what was it, a garnet—_oh_."

"Oh," repeated Sadako sarcastically. "Yes. A crystal. And if I had stayed, if the enemy had gained control over my staff, then…do you really think it wise to give it access to the Gates of Time?"

Itsuko snorted. "You're right, dammit. I _should_ have worked that out for myself. How could I—wait a minute." She gave Sadako a sharp look. "You disappeared right _before_ the enemy attacked. As if you knew what was going to happen."

Sadako's expression did not change at all, but she did not answer for a long time. At last she said, very quietly, "Yes."

"And you didn't say anything."

Another long pause. Then Sadako said, "There was no time, Itsuko; there was simply no time. It had been so long—by the time I remembered, realised what was happening…it was too late. The only chance I had was to escape, and even that much was…a close call."

"But you do know what caused the disaster."

"Yes."

"And who the enemy is."

"…Yes."

Itsuko hesitated for a moment, almost afraid of what she was about to hear. But there was no going back; not now. She had a princess to avenge, and a queen.

"Tell me," she said.

Sadako gave her a weary look. "I'll tell you if you insist. But think carefully before you ask, Itsuko. This is something you must not share with the other Senshi."

"Why not—? No; never mind." Itsuko bit her lip for a moment. Then her eyes hardened. _Serenity. Usagi-chan._ "Tell me," she repeated.

And Sadako told her. The whole, long, damnable story.

- - -

Later, they sat on a wooden bench, looking across a narrow strip of water toward the marina. It was nearly lunch-time, and a few early leavers were puttering about in their boats. Gulls wheeled and cried overhead. The breeze had picked up a little.

"So," said Itsuko.

Sadako said, "Yes." She did not look at Itsuko.

"And the others can't be told because—"

"They would want to attack. You know they would. No matter what we told them, sooner or later they would attack the enemy directly…and they would not stand the slightest chance."

"I suppose so." Itsuko clenched her fists. "I want to attack, myself. Only I'm not sure who: the enemy, or…you."

Sadako shrugged. "It's been said before," she admitted.

"I wish I'd kept my mouth shut, now. I wish you hadn't told me."

"Knowing too much is never a comfort." A grim smile. "Just ask Cassandra."

"Who?"

"…Never mind." She gave Itsuko a long, cool look. "You know the stakes now, at least. You know what I've been working toward. I trust you'll tell me if you see any possibilities I may have overlooked."

Itsuko returned her look, fire for ice. "You hate it, don't you? Having to…open up like this." A moment later she added, "Having to ask for help."

Something in the other woman's eyes hardened. "You would not be my first choice of confidante, true," Sadako said. "If circumstances were otherwise."

"Yeah. 'If.' You're working with a lot of 'if's, Setsuna-chan."

Shrug. "Inevitably."

Itsuko held her gaze for a moment longer; then, satisfied that she had finally gotten under Sadako's skin, she let herself back off. "It's all so risky," she said, her voice softer, more thoughtful. "The only chance we have to win—"

"Is to do exactly what they want us to do," Sadako agreed. "Exactly what they need in order for _them_ to win. I'm not unaware of the irony. But—" she sighed. "I cannot see another way. I was hoping that you could."

"You must be joking. You unload all this on me, then ask me what you've missed? Give me some time to take it all in, first!"

"Hm." The Senshi of Time's lips quirked in a faint smile. "I suppose so. A few days, perhaps?"

"At least." Itsuko's eyes grew distant. "How much more can you actually see, anyway?"

Sadako frowned. "I'm not sure of the exact timeframes. The last thing is…a battle of some kind. You and I are both there, but the details are blurred. It may be a few days away, or a week or two; I can't be sure. Not long."

"Sailor Moon?" Itsuko asked, trying to hide the sudden eagerness in her voice.

"She is there." Sadako gave her a quick glance. "And I can't see her face. I'm sorry, Itsuko."

"…Damn."

"I think I have an idea, at least, of how there can _be_ a moon princess in this time, if that helps."

"Mm. I've had a thought on that, myself. Something Suzue-san said to me the other day. But the idea…raises some interesting metaphysical questions."

"Oh? Do you—"

Sadako broke off as Itsuko's communicator beeped. Itsuko looked down, startled, then lifted it up. "Hello?" she said. "Artemis, is that you?"

"How'd you know?" the cat's voice said ironically. "Itsuko, are you okay? You made it out all right?"

"Me? Yes, Setsuna-chan picked me up. I'd been worried about _you_."

There was no reply for a moment. Then, "Setsuna? Huh. I suppose that figures."

Sadako raised one eyebrow, and gave a rather satisfied smile.

"I'm okay," the cat continued. "Had a little trouble, but—well, that's over now. I'll tell you about it later. Itsuko…what are you going to do? It would be dangerous to go back to the Olympus—"

Itsuko cut him off, her face darkening. "I know," she said. "Don't worry about it. I have other…alternatives."

"Are you sure—?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Miyo may not like it much, but—" She broke off suddenly. "Oh, _no_."

"What?"

"Artemis, I'll talk to you later. I have to go now." She stabbed at the communicator, shutting it off before he could reply. Immediately, she pressed another button.

"What is it?" asked Sadako.

"Miyo," she said tersely. "If those bastards knew who I am, they've probably worked out who she is too. I've got to warn her!"

* * *

It was still a little before noon, and Miyo was in class when her communicator beeped. Everyone turned to stare at her. The teacher's glare could have melted cold steel.

She made a feeble excuse and left the classroom, her face crimson. Dhiti and Kin gave her knowing smiles as she went, and she hoped, just for a moment, that it was another monster attack so that Dhiti would have to think of an excuse too.

The trouble was, Dhiti would manage without blinking an eye. Half the teachers had given up listening to the girl anyway.

Out in the corridor, she ducked quickly into a quiet alcove and tapped her communicator. To her surprise, Itsuko was the caller.

"What is it?" she asked. "An attack?"

"No," Itsuko said. "Miyo, you're in school?" Miyo nodded, startled. "Get out of there. Now."

"—What?"

"Hurry!"

Bewildered, Miyo stepped out of her alcove and started down the corridor toward the stairs. As she went, she said, "Itsuko-chan, what—"

"Just listen!" the white-haired woman insisted. "Keep your eyes open. If anyone tries to stop you, be ready to run."

"Itsuko, what's _wrong_?" Seriously worried now, Miyo began to move faster. On the tiny communicator screen, she could just see someone else over Itsuko's shoulder. Who?

"They found me, Miyo. They tried to arrest me. A team from 'S' Division…no, never mind, I'll explain later. Miyo, they knew who I am. If they know about me, they might know about you, too! You've got to get out of there!"

"'S' Division?" That made no sense. "They tried to _arrest_ you?"

"They had some kind of crazy story—it doesn't matter now. Look, concentrate on getting clear, okay?" Miyo caught another glimpse of the person behind Itsuko and realised, startled, that it was Setsuna. So she _was_ still alive.

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" she asked. In truth, Itsuko sounded on the point of panic; but it seemed like a bad idea to say so. She kept moving at a brisk pace, down the stairs and then out of the building.

"Miyo…don't you see?" It was hard to make out on the tiny screen, but she thought Itsuko looked apologetic. "I'm on the run. I have to leave the Olympus. And that means you can't stay there either—especially not if they know you're Jupiter.

"I'm sorry, Miyo; I really am. But I have to go…and you're going to have to come with me."

* * *

"The address you gave her," said Sadako a few minutes later. They were back in her car, driving methodically south through a maze of suburban streets. "You do have a place to go, then?"

"What?" said Itsuko, distracted. "Oh. Yes. I have a bolt-hole; had it for years. I learned that a long time ago." She made a face. "I suppose you do the same, right?"

Sadako smiled cryptically, but did not reply.

"Yeah. Well, it's not much; just a run-down old house. And it's not really ready, and the cover ID is pretty thin…but at least I have somewhere to sleep."

"You'd be welcome to stay with me until you can get your feet on the ground, if you wish," Sadako told her quietly.

"I—" Itsuko shot her a quick look. "Thanks, but I don't think it's necessary. What I've got should hold up." With a sigh, she added, "At least for a little while."

"As you like."

Itsuko glanced at her again. There was a ghost of a smile on her lips as she said, "Anyway, I don't think you really want me there—any more than I want to go. We're not exactly the most…compatible of personalities, are we?"

Sadako raised one eyebrow. "If you say so," she murmured.

"And _that's_ exactly what I'm talking about!" Itsuko snapped. "Damn it, if I did try staying with you—within a week, I swear, I'd be stark raving mad, or trying to kill you. Or both."

Unexpectedly, the Senshi of Time laughed, a low, throaty chuckle. "It's a talent I have," Setsuna said.

"It's a wall, you mean," Itsuko retorted. "And you never let it down, do you? You always have to keep your damned distance. When was the last time you actually let anyone in? Was it Haruka and Michiru? Or Hotaru?"

The silence that met her remark was shattering, and finally she realised what she had said. "Oh," she whispered. "I—I'm sorry…"

"There was also," Sadako said coldly, "a queen."

"I—" She searched for words. "I know," she said at last, in a low voice. "We all let her in, didn't we?" Unbidden, something Suzue had said came back to her—_For more than two thousand years now…_—and she winced.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"It doesn't matter." Sadako's face remained set in stone. "There can be little you could say to me that I have not heard many, many times before."

"And the wall goes up again," Itsuko said softly. "Setsuna-chan…Sadako…Don't you ever just get _tired_ of it? Of shutting yourself away from everyone? Always being on the outside?"

"Itsuko. Rei." For a moment she thought Sadako was mocking her; but for a moment, there was a softer, thoughtful look in those red eyes. "You of all people know how many reasons there can be to hold yourself apart."

"But you didn't always, did you? In Crystal Tokyo, you were relaxed, friendly…happy. I still remember how you helped me, that time."

"Mm." Sadako's lips quirked briefly; but then she looked away, her eyes darkening once more. "And yet it all ended. Again."

"It didn't end," Itsuko said fiercely. "It's not over. Not yet."

"No?" They drove in silence, each alone in her thoughts for a little. At last Sadako sighed and said, "Perhaps you're right. Letting go…can be difficult. Of ideas, as well as other things."

"Just remember that we're all here. We'll be your friends…if you'll let us."

"I'll remember." The green-haired woman hesitated, then said, "I may need the help, to tell the truth. Not now, but…sometime in the future."

Itsuko looked at her quickly. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You mean, with losing your…your foresight?"

"Not that. Well, perhaps that, too." Sadako frowned, chewing her lip briefly. It was as uncertain as Itsuko had ever seen her. At last she said, "Someone—or something—is hunting me."

"Hunting!" Itsuko stared. "Who?"

"I have no idea; not who, or why. Just, every now and then, a glimpse, as if through a darkened window, of a net, slowing weaving itself around me." She shivered suddenly. "There's something insidious…almost obsessive about it. It's quite unnerving."

"A net…" Itsuko understood the reference to a darkened window, all too well. Her own glimpses of the future, in the fire or in dreams, could be every bit as elusive.

"Yes. The hunter is being quite clever, actually. He is surrounding himself with, well, with _me_. I see a recurring image of a room full of pictures. Images, memories, even dreams…every kind of psychic cue; and there's just enough of a snatch of talent there to bind it all together. He is building a web of causality that, in the end, may well draw me to him. And when that happens…" Sadako shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know."

"You said 'he'?"

"I could be mistaken; but it has that feel to it, yes."

"I could look in the fire for you, if you want," Itsuko offered. "See if I can make out any—Oh, _no_."

"What?"

Itsuko did not answer. Instead she began to swear, violently, profanely and at great length. Her eyes blazed; the air about her almost seemed to smoulder. "Damn them," she finished at last. "Oh, damn them, those misbegotten pismires!"

"What is it?" repeated Sadako patiently.

"The sacred fire!" Itsuko cried out. "Damn them all, they've made me lose the sacred fire!"

* * *

Artemis checked that nobody was watching and leaped nimbly down out of his tree. He glanced around to orient himself, pondered for a moment, and then headed toward Dhiti's house.

The sky was bright and clear, and the pavement was hot beneath his paws. The street was nearly empty of traffic. None of it really registered. Instead, as he trotted along, he became lost in thought.

Itsuko was going to have to move. There could be no doubt about that. He wondered, though, if she had seen all the implications yet. He wanted to discuss it with her, but she had sounded quite agitated when she'd cut him off.

For a start, if she left the Olympus, Miyo would have to go with her. Artemis had no idea why 'S' Division thought that Itsuko had been dealing with the Sankaku—unless the attempted kidnapping of Iku last week was related—but it was a sure bet that they'd guess Miyo was a Senshi. They might or might not connect her with the Sankaku as well. It hardly mattered; with Itsuko gone, Miyo could scarcely stay on at the Olympus.

Having to move was going to cause problems, though. Itsuko would probably have to take a new alias. That was nothing unfamiliar; since the re-founding of Tokyo he'd known her as Izumi, Yuko and Junko. But would Miyo need a new name, too? It would make it hard for her to see her friends again—and Artemis was beginning to realise how big a blow that would be to both her and Dhiti. However, if 'S' Division really did start hunting Miyo, they would be certain to watch her friends; and that put Dhiti's identity as Mercury at risk as well.

Damn it all, was there _anything_ that wasn't going to be turned upside down by this? The whole ability of the Senshi team to work together could be on the line!

If only he had a better idea of what 'S' Division were planning.

If only…

And then, suddenly, he remembered the van.

That blasted van, the one that had been parked behind the Olympus. The van that Bendis had said was full of computer gear, that sounded like a mobile base of some kind. He had seen it, just an hour or two ago! The 'S' Division agents had been climbing out of it, on their way in to arrest Itsuko.

He knew where it was parked.

He started to run.

- - -

The van was gone.

The street where it had been parked was empty. Artemis approached the spot and sniffed it, to no avail. He stood there for some time, disappointment sharp in his mind. He had been counting on the van; he had hoped to learn so much—

An odd thought came to him. He considered it for a little, and then decided to take a calculated risk.

He headed back to the Olympus. The building was only a few blocks away; just a minute or two to a cat. And there, sure enough, was the van—parked exactly where it had been previously, in the alley behind the building. He stared at it, suddenly furious. The _gall_ of them!

The doors and windows were all closed. He circled the van a few times, pondering the situation, burning to get inside; even, for a moment, considering taking human shape to do it. Then a movement caught his eye. Hastily he scrambled up into a recessed window ledge, just above the van, to watch.

A woman came down the alley, a large cardboard box in her arms. He recognised her after a second: the pale, skinny one who had been with the other 'S' Division agents. She put the box down to unlock the van, then loaded the box in the rear. Artemis saw that there were a number of other boxes in there already.

They were stripping Itsuko's offices, he realised. Taking all her papers…probably taking everything they could find. Just in case there was something there that could lead them to the big bad Sankaku agent.

The woman started to close the rear door again, then paused as a man started to follow her down the alley. The newcomer was carrying three boxes at once, and he was having a tough time balancing them.

_Typical male,_ Artemis thought, not unaware of the irony.

The top box slipped. The man tried frantically to recover, but without success. The box hit the ground and burst open, spilling out a pile of folders and loose papers. They were caught by the breeze immediately, and began to flutter across the road. The woman sprinted to help.

Artemis seized his chance. While they were busy he sprang down from the ledge, landing lightly on the van's rear step and ducking inside before they looked up. He glanced around hastily for somewhere to hide, then squeezed underneath a low shelf.

Most people not familiar with cats would be surprised at how small a space one of them can fit into.

He lay there, taking quick, shallow breaths, and waited. Before long he heard the man and the woman finish picking up the spilled documents and load them into the van. Other footsteps approached. He heard voices outside, too muffled to make out. The van's front doors opened; people climbed in.

The van doors closed, and the engine hummed to life. They started to move.

Artemis wondered if he had made a big mistake.

* * *

The car moved on in silence for some time. After a little Sadako said cautiously, "Forgive me if I'm being ignorant. You can't just light another fire?"

"And damn you as well," Itsuko hissed. "_You_ should know better. That flame has been burning for over two thousand years, and you think it can be _replaced_?"

"Itsuko—"

"That's my _life_ back there!"

Sadako glared back at her. "What would you have me do, then?" she asked coldly. "Take you back to fight them all over again? You could not win unless I transformed to help you, and I won't do that."

"And why not? If you—" Itsuko stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened. "You—you can still transform?"

"Certainly."

"I…thought you were like me. I thought—" She clenched her fists, her face twisted into a mask of self-loathing. "Oh, gods, gods, is _everything_ I thought wrong?"

"Itsuko." Sadako's voice held nothing but sympathy, the growing anger of moments before forgotten. "I'm sorry, truly. But you have to let it go. There's no going back."

"Easy for you to say. Two thousand years, Setsuna-chan! Could you just walk away from that?" Then Itsuko snorted. "What am I saying? You probably _have_, haven't you?"

"Once or twice." There was a hard glint in the woman's eye; but she only went on, "Let me repeat: is this so very important? I realise how long you've tended that flame, and just how much of an emotional investment you have in it." Itsuko tried to interrupt, but Sadako went on. "All the same, surely fire is fire. Is it worth your life? Would it be so…inadequate for you to simply light a new one?"

"Oh, Setsuna-chan." Itsuko tried to muster her scattered concentration. It felt as if she were talking to Suzue again. She took a deep breath and managed to speak calmly. "All right. Ignore the question of the kami of the flame. It's an important point; but ignore it for now. Instead, consider this. You must know how much of religious ritual is symbolic: a way to centre the mind and focus the spirit. Prayers; chanting; the sound of the bells; the temple building itself; all of them are symbols to concentrate the mind."

Sadako frowned. "All right. Then—"

"Well, Setsuna-chan," Itsuko interrupted, "a flame that has been burning for over two thousand years is a _very powerful symbol_."

For a moment, there was only silence.

"I…see." With an odd, almost disappointed look, Sadako said, "Is that it, then? You need to get it back as a focus for your psychic vision?"

Itsuko sighed. "No, of course not. I need to get it back out of respect for the kami. I need to get it back because _I_ believe, even if you don't." Her voice had begun to rise. "And I need to get it back because my grandfather and his forefathers before him have been tending that flame for generations; and whether the temple itself is gone or not, still I am the last priestess of the Hikawa Shrine and I will _not_ fail in my duty!"

There was a long silence. It was broken by the sound of clapping.

Itsuko looked around at Sadako, surprised, to see the other woman putting her hands back on the steering bar. "Bravo," Sadako said softly.

She felt herself flush. "What—"

"You had me worried, Itsuko-chan, with your talk of symbols and focus. Do you think I don't know what faith means? Do you think _I_ don't know what it means to hold to one's duty?"

"I—" Itsuko had to look away. "Of course not."

"Of course not," Sadako repeated ironically. "But I'm glad that _you_ remember." She shook her head slowly. "I truly had not realised that the fire meant so much to you. Yet at the same time—" She paused, and her voice became a little wistful. "It is…oddly comforting."

They drove in silence for a minute. Then Itsuko said, in a quiet, reflective tone, "It did go out, a couple of times. When I was young. I remember Grandpa saying it was a bad omen…I always swore to myself that I'd never let it happen again, no matter what. And since then…"

Sadako said, "How long do you have? Before it burns out?"

Itsuko glanced at her quickly. She muttered something inaudible.

"Excuse me? I didn't quite catch that."

Another mutter.

"Itsuko—"

"I said it won't burn out, okay?" Itsuko snapped. "Damn it…how do you _think_ I managed to keep a fire burning in a gymnasium without anyone noticing the smoke?"

"Eh?" Sadako's eyes widened. "You don't mean—"

"It's gas, all right? It's a gas fire. Go ahead and laugh."

Sadako's face twitched, but she did not laugh…quite. "How very traditional," she murmured.

"Oh, shut up. I told you the importance was symbolic, didn't I? And flame is flame." Itsuko could feel her face burning.

"And the kami?"

"Hasn't complained to _me_. Look, can we change the damn subject?"

"Certainly."

Again, the car moved in silence for a while. At last Itsuko said, "You must think I'm an idiot."

Sadako chuckled. "I think you're human. That's not a bad thing to be, you know."

"So I've been told." A moment later, Itsuko went on, "I still remember, you know. How you helped me before, with the—you know."

"Mm. That was a long time ago."

Back in the founding days of Crystal Tokyo, it had been. The Great Ice had swallowed the world for centuries, and the Hikawa Shrine had not escaped. The sacred fire had been quenched, the long tradition broken at last. Until, not long after the ending of the Ice, Rei had gone to Setsuna and asked an enormous favour; and, for a wonder, the Senshi of Time had agreed. They picked a moment when they would not be disturbed, stepped into the past, and brought back a firepot—and the sacred fire burned once more.

Had the tradition been broken, then, or merely interrupted? Reason said one thing; faith, another. But the fire that burned in Crystal Tokyo was unquestionably the same that had burned in Rei's youth, a thousand years before. Paradox or no, it was enough.

Itsuko smiled at the memory. "I was always a little surprised that you said yes," she admitted.

With a sigh, Sadako said, "You would have been unhappy without it."

Itsuko blinked. "What?"

"And if you were unhappy, Queen Serenity would have been unhappy."

"Wait a minute. You mean the queen—"

"The queen," Sadako said heavily, "suggested to me that she did not want you to be unhappy. All right?"

For a long time, Itsuko did not reply. "I never knew," she said at last.

"You were not supposed to."

"I—" She could not think what to say. "Thank you."

"It's okay." The car slowed as Sadako looked over at her. "They won't keep watching the building forever, Itsuko-chan. You have time. We'll find a way to get the fire back. All right?"

"I know." Itsuko made a brief, impatient gesture. "I just wish…"

"If I were to take you back there now, we would probably have to fight. But if I do that—if I fight them for you as Sailor Pluto—it will bring the Senshi into direct, active conflict with the security forces of Third Tokyo. It will be a declaration of war against the government. Do you really think that would be wise?"

"I…no. Of course not."

After a moment Itsuko added, "Forgive me if I can't be quite as detached about it as you."

* * *

The 'S' Division van hummed its way through the streets of Third Tokyo. Inside, wedged under a low set of shelves, Artemis felt every bump in the road that they passed over.

It was hard to breathe, his spine was killing him, he needed to pee, and the damned agents weren't even talking much. So far, his brilliant idea had been a total bust. He wondered how much more of this he could stand.

For at least the twentieth time, he tried to stretch a little without making any noise. Why couldn't the shelves have been a little higher? Half a centimetre would have been enough. Didn't anyone design their vans with cats in mind?

_I sound like Bendis,_ he thought giddily.

The van rounded a corner a little too fast, and the tyres squealed in protest. "Slow down," said a man's voice from the front. "There's no rush. Not any more."

Artemis recognised the voices. He had heard them all earlier, while lying wrapped up in that damned net.

"That's not what you said before," came a second voice. Aoiro, the blond, lantern-jawed one.

"We're well away from the building," said the first voice, Captain Hiiro. "Even if Pappa-san comes back with her friends, she's too late."

Under his shelf, Artemis blinked. _Pappa-san?!_ He tried to imagine Itsuko's face if she heard them calling her that. Even in his current situation, the idea went a long way toward cheering him up.

Then he realised what else they were saying. _If Pappa-san comes back with her friends…_ They wanted to be away from the Olympus, in case she returned. They were afraid of her. They were actually _afraid_ of her!

He hoped Itsuko was sensible enough to stay away.

"We don't even know that she's working with the others," said Kuroi's voice.

"Can you take the chance that she _isn't_?" said Hiiro. "She's got two girls staying with her, for heaven's sake, and neither of them is family. That's too much of a coincidence. What are the odds that they're—?"

"Well, we know one of them is clean," said Aoiro.

"The hell we do!" snarled Kuroi. "Oh, wait, you mean the one you mugged. Yeah, big man, Aoiro."

"I did not mug—"

"Same difference."

"The hell it is!"

"Enough," cut in Hiiro sharply. "Lay off, Ryozo. Save it for the bad guys."

"Yeah, yeah."

A fourth voice—Mitsukai—said, "If only there _were_ any bad guys."

Aoiro started to reply, but Hiiro cut him off. "Enough, I said!" he ordered. "Bad guys or not, we have a job to do. Let's keep this professional, people."

That seemed to kill the conversation. The other three shut up, and the van droned on in silence.

Artemis tried to work out what they were talking about. Two girls, and a girl who had been mugged? Miyo had to be one of the girls, but who was—? Then he remembered the Aizawa girl. He had never actually met her, but she slept over at the Olympus sometimes. And hadn't there been an incident, weeks ago, when Itsuko had found her unconscious?

Slowly, he put the pieces together. Aizawa had been attacked by a burglar and drugged. The next day, Itsuko had discovered that her desk had been bugged.

Dear gods, had these people suspected Itsuko for _that_ long?

"Hey, boss," said Kuroi in a mocking tone. "Speaking of professional, what happened to Kitada? He's been a long time calling in."

"Good point," said Hiiro. "Mitsukai, check it out, will you? They may be holding him up at headquarters."

"Right." Artemis heard somebody moving, and then Mitsukai began speaking in a low voice; over a commset, he realised. But he did not want to think about Kitada, that foolishly brave young man. He tried to ignore Mitsukai and concentrate on the others.

"So what happens with Pappa-san now?" asked Aoiro. "Think we'll be kept on the case?"

"After the botch job we've made of it so far," said Hiiro darkly, "we'll be lucky not to end up handing out leaflets for 'I' Division." More thoughtfully, he added, "It depends. She's on the run, now; she'll be more vulnerable. It gives us some options."

"I suppose we'll follow up on the other girl? Hayashi?"

Hiiro did not answer for a little. Then, in a curiously thoughtful tone, he said, "I'm told that Lieutenant Chairo has been assigned to check her background."

"Chairo!" It sounded as though Kuroi was about to explode. Then he broke off. When he continued, it was with a subtle note of respect. "That Colonel Shiro. He's a sly one."

"Indeed. Nobody could ever accuse Chairo of being incompetent."

"Hell, no. He'll give them the most thorough check they've ever seen." Kuroi started to laugh. "In a few months' time."

Aoiro said, "So you think the colonel has…doubts…about arresting Pappa-san, then?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Captain." Hiiro's voice was suddenly flat and clear. "To my knowledge, Colonel Shiro has never shown anything but the highest dedication to his duty. If he had concerns about hunting moon cats, or Senshi, or Pappa-san or anyone else, he would certainly never allow it to affect his loyalties."

"Er…yes."

"_Understand_?"

Artemis could almost hear the salute in Aoiro's voice. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Just as suddenly, Hiiro's voice relaxed again. "Now…Mitsukai, have you heard anything back about our missing Irregular yet?"

"Yes, Captain," the woman answered. "Ah…headquarters say they haven't seen him. He never arrived there."

For a few seconds there was only the sound of the van's engine. Then Hiiro said, "Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

* * *

The car passed through a small shopping district and Itsuko became more animated, watching their route carefully. After a little she said, "Can you head left here? There's something I have to pick up."

Sadako turned left obediently, and for the next minute or two Itsuko gave her directions. At last they pulled to a halt at a small charging station. Itsuko got out of the car and said, "Hold on. I'll just be a moment." She disappeared into the station office.

While she waited, Sadako got out of the car herself and thoughtfully plugged in a charging cable. Her car's battery was not very low, and it did not take long for the meter to trip. She unplugged the cable and went inside to pay.

She handed her credit chit to the attendant and looked around the room, ignoring his attempt at small talk. A typical checkout office; racks of automotive components, magazines and junk food. She noted with interest that there was no sign of Itsuko.

As the attendant was passing her chit back, a door at the rear opened and Itsuko came out. There was a small leather satchel under her arm; it looked fairly full. She paused for an instant as she saw Sadako. Then she turned to the attendant and said, "Thank you, Asano-san." He bobbed his head jerkily in reply and Itsuko strode out of the office.

Sadako followed her a few seconds later, humming an ancient tune under her breath. She got into the car and drove out of the station, carefully not noticing the angry look Itsuko was giving her. After a little, she said, "Your emergency kit, I assume?"

"Yes," Itsuko said shortly. She opened the satchel and rummaged around, pulling out a sheaf of papers.

"And should I still call you 'Itsuko'?"

Itsuko sighed. "I suppose not." She flicked through the papers and produced a driver's license. "The name on this is Hiyama Seki, but I don't dare rely on it for too long. I'll have to replace it when I can."

"Be careful. 'S' Division may be looking out for things like that."

A pause. "I hadn't thought of that. Yes, you're right." She swore under her breath. "This is going to get expensive."

"Had you considered doing anything about your appearance? Your hair is rather distinc—Oh." As Sadako was speaking, Itsuko pulled two more items out of the satchel: a pair of glasses, and a wig. "Oh, dear."

"Yes?" said Itsuko dangerously. "You have something to say?"

"No. No. I—"

Sadako stared at her for a moment longer. Then she pulled over to the side of the road and leaned over the car's steering bar, her head in her arms. She began to laugh helplessly.

Itsuko ignored her. She turned the rear-view mirror around so that she could see herself and fitted the wig in haughty silence. The hair was straight and black, tied back in a pony-tail. The glasses were round-framed and tinted a pale yellow, and—though the lenses surely had to be plain glass—somehow seemed to magnify her eyes. She examined herself in the mirror, nodded once, and then turned to Sadako. "Well?" she demanded.

Sadako looked back at her. "You—you look like an owl." She started to laugh again.

"Thank you so much. I'd never have picked you for a comedian, Setsuna-chan." Her words were acid, but after a moment Itsuko softened. "Look, this is how the neighbours at my bolt-hole know me, all right? If you can't keep a straight face, let me out here and I'll get a taxi the rest of the way."

"No, no." Sadako wiped her eyes. "I'll be good. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

"Lovely." Itsuko scowled at her, then wrenched the rear-view mirror back into position with rather more force than necessary. "All right. The address is—"

"I remember. You told Miyo earlier."

Sadako started the car again and drove off briskly. They headed back through the shopping district, the way they had come. After a minute Sadako said casually, "It's quite close to the mall, isn't it?"

"Eh?"

"The address you gave. It's quite close to that mall; the one that got wrecked last night."

Itsuko tried to remember. "Oh…about five or six blocks away, I suppose. I hadn't really considered—" She gave Sadako a sharp look. "You don't think…?"

"No, no. I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Quite convenient, though, don't you think? That your new place is nice and handy to where all the action is happening."

"But I found that house more than eight years ago. It couldn't possibly be…" Itsuko trailed off. "Coincidence?"

Sadako shrugged. "I thought it was interesting. That's all."

Itsuko nodded, but the troubled look did not leave her face.

They drove for a minute or two more, leaving the main roads. At last Sadako turned into a narrow street, lined with trees, that wound its way along the side of a hill. She pulled to a halt in front of an old-fashioned brick house.

It was small, only one storey, and had a rather shabby air. The yellow paint on the window frames and door was faded and peeling, and the front yard was unkempt and overgrown. Most of one wall was covered with ivy. In spite of it all, the building looked to be in reasonably good repair.

The two climbed out of the car, and Sadako was immediately struck by the quietness of the street. Above them, the trees stretched over their heads, branches almost meeting above the centre of the road. They seemed to soak up all sound. There was a distant murmur of traffic from the main roads, several blocks away, but nearby there was only the sound of the breeze, lifting a cloud of leaves from the roadside, and the calling of birds in the trees.

Itsuko walked to the front gate and paused, hunting about in her satchel, before bringing out a set of keys. Behind her, Sadako looked around curiously. The sound of the birds was getting closer—

Then they burst out of the trees: a pair of crows, huge and black, calling out harshly as they spiralled down to perch on the roof above the front door.

Itsuko froze for a moment, her hand still on the gate, looking up at the birds. They stared back at her, their heads cocked to one side, their black eyes unfathomable. A faint smile crossed Itsuko's face. Then she moved on, up the path to the front door.

With a loud clatter of wings, the crows took to the air again and flew back into the trees, cawing raucously. When Sadako looked back, though, they were still there, peering out through the branches, watching her intently. No, not watching her; watching Itsuko.

"Those surely cannot be Deimos and Phobos…can they?" Sadako asked quietly.

Itsuko glanced back at her. She smiled again, small and secretive. "Ask me no questions," she said, "I'll tell you no lies."

Before Sadako could reply, she indicated the front door and said, "Do you want to come in for a moment?"

Sadako considered. She had intended to offer further help. But—

"Perhaps I had better not," she said slowly. "Miyo will probably arrive before long. And she is likely to ask…the same questions you did."

Itsuko's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I see your point," she replied. "We certainly wouldn't want things to get awkward, would we? Never mind that she'd be glad to see you. Never mind that—"

"Itsuko."

"Seki," she said rebelliously.

"—Seki-san," Sadako said.

"I—oh, all right. All _right_!" Itsuko sighed. "I do understand; really. I just don't like it."

"Nor do I." The look in Sadako's eyes was old and inexpressibly weary. "Sometimes what we do not like cannot be helped."

"You think I don't know that? Still—we're keeping things from them, Setsuna-chan. Even lying to them, in a way, and I…I wanted to believe I'd never do that. I just wish I knew if it'll be worth it. If we even have a chance."

Sadako nodded. "And yet," she said, "there is hope. What was the line? 'All will be well, and all will be well; and all manner of things will be well.'"

"Julian of Norwich." Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "But do you believe it?"

Sadako hesitated. At last she said, "Let us hope so."

* * *

Artemis waited for several minutes after the van stopped moving and he heard the humans depart. Then, with some effort, he struggled out from under the shelf.

The rear doors of the van were closed, but one of the front windows had been left half-open and he managed to slip through, landing lightly on a concrete floor.

He looked around cautiously. He was standing in a car park, filled with dozens of vehicles of all descriptions. The only light came from dim electric tubes in the ceiling, suggesting that he was underground. The area was almost silent. He was alone.

He found a dark corner and took care of certain urgent business. Then he began to prowl around the park, sniffing experimentally at cars and trying to work out where he was. The people in the van had mentioned "headquarters." If so, he might be in the middle of 'S' Division.

_Great,_ he thought.

A door opened somewhere, and he heard footsteps approaching. He hid under a car and watched as two people walked past.

"Figures he'd lose the damn cat," a voice grumbled. Artemis recognised the speaker: Kuroi. "Damn it, why do we have to be saddled with an Irregular at a time like this? Couldn't they give us someone competent?"

"Just the other day, you were saying he seemed pretty promising," came Hiiro's voice lightly.

"Not me. Must have been some other guy."

"Sure. Well, we'll see what he has to say when we get to the hospital." Hiiro's legs paused, and Kuroi halted a few steps later. "I'm a little more concerned about the other thing," Hiiro said.

"Do we have any choice?" asked Kuroi. For a moment, the usual tight rasp of his voice softened.

"Maybe. I have a friend in 'Q' Division. He may be able to help—off the record."

"'Q'?" Kuroi sounded half-amused, half-contemptuous. "You're getting into blue-sky stuff there, Yoichi."

"I know. It can't be helped. If he can give us an edge…"

Hiiro stared moving again, and Kuroi followed. Seconds later, Artemis heard them climb into a vehicle—it sounded like a car, not a van—and then drive off.

He remained where he was for a little, considering. It sounded as though the young man, Kitada, had survived. That was good. But he could not make head or tail of Hiiro's cryptic remark about 'Q' Division. There was no such government section. What had the man meant?

At last, none the wiser, he emerged from under the car and resumed searching the car park for a way out. A ramp led up to more levels, and he followed it hopefully.

The top level was open to the sky and was filled, not with cars, but with Opals. He watched them suspiciously for a minute and wondered if any of these had been the ones that chased him, back when he was still travelling with Bendis. Then, forcing himself to relax, he went to the outer wall and looked over.

It was a fair distance to the ground—three or four storeys—but there were places here and there where a cat could get a footing. A human could never have done it. Slowly and carefully, he made his way down.

Once he was safely on terra firma again, Artemis looked around quickly, working out where he was and memorising the location…just in case. From the outside, it appeared to be a perfectly ordinary office building in the central business district. There was even a sign, clearly labelling it as 'S' Division.

Feeling somehow cheated, he started the long walk back to Dhiti's house. He did not try to hurry; he had a lot to think about.

* * *

Sadako left, finally, and Itsuko was alone at last. She had been grateful for Sadako's help, more grateful than she could have said; but the day's events, and their implications, were beginning to pile up to the point where she felt like she was drowning. She needed time to sort things out, to settle herself. She needed to be alone.

She glanced down at the low table in her new living room, at the little business card lying there. Sadako's contact details. The card was printed with the logo of a company named "Suisho Productions"—a riddle, but one that could wait. She picked it up and tucked it in a pocket absently.

Too much to think about, too much to do; and it couldn't be long before Miyo arrived. Miyo was not going to like the situation, and Itsuko could not blame her. There would be explanations, and arguments, and recriminations.

Even when that was settled, there was still endless work left to do. There were plans to make. There was…there was shopping to be done. She made a mental note, adding it to dozens of others: the pantry was nearly empty.

And she was going to need money, a lot of it. She had some emergency reserves, squirrelled away under various false names—in much the same way that she had had this house—but they would only stretch so far. She would need to find a new source of income, quickly.

It might still be possible to draw funds from Pappadopoulos Itsuko's bank accounts, if 'S' Division hadn't frozen them yet. Another mental note.

And her head was already beginning to itch under this damned wig; and there was no cure for that at all, because it would be a long time before her own hair grew out long enough to be able to get rid of it.

Her thoughts swam chaotically. If Pappadopoulos Itsuko had to vanish, her identity as 'Hiyama Seki' would need to be fleshed out, or replaced. That took serious money nowadays; a good false identity, one that would stand up to scrutiny, was hard to come by. She suddenly realised that she was going to need documentation for Miyo, too.

There was only one place she knew to get it. She would have to go to the fair.

She remembered, with a momentary flash of amusement, Artemis' surprise and indignation at the idea. Had it been only a week or so ago? She had admitted to him that she occasionally dabbled in Third Tokyo's underworld. He accused her, half in jest, of being a wanted criminal. Oh, the irony!

Visiting one of the black market fairs was a risk, but she did not see how she could avoid it. Okuda Jiro might perhaps have been able to help her with papers, as he had done once before, twenty years ago; but the revelation that he was Sankaku made it hard to trust him. She did not know where to look online for help; computers had never been her forte. That left few choices.

The fairs were where the underside of society met, host to everything from innocent barter and exchange to arms and drug dealing. Itsuko herself ran a minor smuggling operation: essentially benign, though the authorities would probably take a dimmer view. She did it mainly to keep up contact with a criminal element that she occasionally needed. For things like identity papers, for example.

If she was honest, she had to admit that she might do it anyway. There was a certain vicarious thrill to it: the straight-laced temple girl playing smuggler. Undeniably absurd; but still, her pulse raced whenever she drove the van out with a load of contraband…

The schedule varied, but there was usually a fair every two or three weeks, in an ever-rotating location. She had asked at the charging station, and the next fair was due tomorrow night—another 'interesting coincidence,' Sadako might have said.

She rubbed her forehead, wincing. She was getting a headache.

So many things to keep track of. New identities—and other, more everyday things. Clothes; she had nothing but what she was wearing. Toiletries. Extra bedding.

And what was all this going to do to Miyo? Would she have to pull the girl away from school…and friends? 'S' Division would surely try to trace her through Miyo. Yet at the same time, Itsuko could hardly afford to create a rift in the Senshi. Was she being selfish?

Perhaps it would be better to go back to the Olympus after all. To give herself up. If it would help the others…

She sat at the little kitchen table and buried her face in her hands. She did not know what to do; like Sadako, she could not see the way forward. She longed, desperately, to meditate before the sacred fire. To reach out for clarity of vision and purpose; to purify her soul in flame.

But the sacred fire was far away, denied to her. Lost.

And at that thought, unbidden, a memory returned, one she had tried hard to bury. A dark time, long ago. Another day when she had lost everything—

- - -

After she awoke, 722 years before, in the ruins of the palace in Crystal Tokyo.

Rei staggered out into the grey morning light of a new age, half-mad with grief and pain. Behind her she left the bodies of friends: Minako, Endymion, Luna, Makoto, Ami. The others, gone before: Usagi, Haruka, Michiru. And, most precious and most loved, the queen, fallen on the steps of her own palace.

She saw no sign of Artemis or Diana. Perhaps they had escaped.

She left them all. There was nothing she could do for their remains, as injured as she was; no way to give them a fitting repose. She could only walk, and grieve.

Her back was a solid, burning knot of fire, and putting weight on her right leg was agony. She had several broken ribs, at least. She spat blood occasionally. After a while she found a long, stout stick to support herself with, and went on.

With every step, she found new reasons for grief.

The city around her was a shattered wreck. Behind her, the great crystalline spires of the palace were charred and broken. Ahead, the streets were littered with rubble, almost impassible in places. Fire had swept across the metropolis. Many buildings were smouldering ruins; here and there columns of smoke still rose, thick and black in the dim light of dawn. Bodies were everywhere, many of them torn almost to pieces. The air was thick with dust and the smell of smoke, fear and death. Perhaps worst of all was the silence. This city, that only two months before had been filled with life and love and music, was now a charnel-house, as silent as the grave. A burial-place for dreams.

And there were the enemy; the crystites. They, too, were everywhere, lying silent and motionless. It looked as though they had simply fallen over and turned to glass. Rei kicked one, and it broke into pieces with a faint clink. She gave a thin, rusty laugh.

When you wake up and the world has ended around you, what do you do? Where can you go? She wandered the streets for an hour or more, filling her heart and mind with desolation and despair. As the sun rose, the sights all around her only grew worse: rack and ruin, outlined against a clear blue sky. The pain became too much to bear at last, and she had to stop. She sat down beside a fountain that had once been a famous work of art, but which was now choked with corpses and worse things, and wondered whether she had the courage to go on.

When you wake up and the world has ended around you, where do you go? You go home.

The long stairway up Sendai Hill took her nearly two hours to climb. Each step brought new pain. Several times on the way, she had to stop when her head began to swim and she thought she would pass out. At last, she stood at the top and looked across the courtyard.

The temple was a disaster. She almost wept again at the sight of the beloved old buildings laid waste. They had been rebuilt with such devoted care after the end of the Great Ice; and all, all for nothing.

The dead were here, too; hundreds of them. When disaster had struck, they had fled to the temple for shelter. It had not saved them. The crystites had come—to kill, and then die in their turn. Now, refugee and invader alike lay baking under the morning sun.

Parts of the main building were still standing. Rei stepped past a mound of bodies lying outside the door, noting with distant regret how small some of them were. She did not weep; there was no more grief left in her. She was numb.

At the end of the corridor inside, three more people lay, unmoving, cut almost in half by crystalline shards. One of them, she knew: the priest, Genichi. She had known him for centuries; he had taken over after the death of her grandfather, when it became apparent that Rei herself would have other priorities in life. He had been a close friend, one of the few people outside the palace to whom she could unburden herself.

Unable to kneel by his side, she could only kiss her fingertips, then reach down and touch his forehead softly. "Rest easy, old man," she whispered.

Then she left them behind—as it seemed she had left everyone—and went into the final room, to bow down before the sacred fire and greet the kami and—please, oh please—to lose herself in meditation and perhaps forget, for a little while, the world outside.

A little light filtered through the door, enough for her to make out details. The room was broken, ruined; the walls were splintered and torn apart, and the massive old beams had fallen. Rubble littered the floor. Once, the air here had been scented with fragrant resins. Now there was nothing but the smell of old, stale smoke.

The fire was out.

Rei stood blinking in the darkness for a full minute. Her mind was blank. It was not real; none of it was real. Then, gradually, she became aware of a sound: a low, keening moan. After a while she realised that it was coming from her.

"No no no nononononono—"

She stumbled forward toward the low altar. There was no answering warmth in her face. Alone in the darkness, she threw back her head and howled her denial. She reached the fire pit and, desperate, thrust her hands deep into the ashes.

There was a sting of heat, and she realised with incredulous hope that there was still a chance. The embers were not dead yet.

The hours that followed were madness. Later, she would remember only fragments. The wild search for fuel. Desperately trying to control the shaking in her arms as she fed fresh kindling to the charred embers. The agony of broken ribs grating as she fought to blow gently on the little pile. The taste of ash in her mouth.

She begged; she pleaded; she prayed feverishly, offering her soul to the kami anew, and watched in despair as the dull red glow faded from the wood. Still she worked, prying the black cinders apart with burnt fingers to expose the last precious heat to the air, and delicately touching fine wood-shavings to the surface revealed. They blackened; there was a faint trickle of new smoke. Then they seemed to darken once more. She breathed on them, not daring to do more.

A brilliant red spark danced to light. A tiny, fragile tongue of flame.

She fed it more tinder gingerly, nursing it like a baby. As she worked she mumbled incoherent thanks, barely noticing that she was speaking aloud. The kami had heard her; the fire spread from shavings to twigs. The kindling began to crackle softly.

Slowly, she realised that she was actually half-lying in the pit itself. She pulled herself out gingerly and began to bow toward the altar.

The room swam around her and went black.

When she came to, the fire she had built was still burning. The room around her was still a ruin; but it was a holy place once more.

As she struggled upright, she saw that her sleeve and her hair had actually been trailing in the ashes. The fire had been burning all around them. But somehow, neither hair nor robe was even singed.

- - -

Itsuko opened her eyes. "No," she whispered. "No, damn it. I won't give up. We'll find a way to make it work. Somehow, we'll find a way."

As if from a great distance, she heard a faint knocking. The front door. Miyo had arrived at last.

For a moment longer, Itsuko paid no attention. Her eyes were fixed on a dream. "We'll find a way," she whispered again. "And somehow, I _will_ get you back."

* * *

Dhiti was not particularly worried when Miyo left class. The situation could not be urgent, or Dhiti would have been called too. She simply exchanged a knowing look with Kin—who looked just as amused by the incident as Dhiti was—and waited for lunchtime, when Miyo would tell her what it was all about.

Except that Miyo didn't come back; and when lunchtime rolled around, there was still no sign of her.

"How are we supposed to take a horrible revenge on her if she isn't even here?" Dhiti complained to Kin. They were sitting at their desks, finishing their lunches as they talked.

"Maybe that's the idea," Kin offered. "Maybe this is her, taking a preemptive horrible revenge for _your_ horrible revenge."

"Too subtle for Hayashi. Nah, Beth-chan probably got a hairball and called for help, that's all. Still, Hayashi might have _said_."

"Beth-chan." Kin looked thoughtful. "That's one of the others I haven't met, right? You mentioned her once before."

Dhiti cursed. "You remember too much."

"Well, it doesn't help if you keep _on_ mentioning her, does it?" asked Kin reasonably. Then she said, "Hairball?"

"That, believe it or not, is a story even weirder than Hayashi and her slugs. And that's all I'm sayin'."

"Wow. I knew you Senshi got up to some weird stuff, but I didn't know it got kinky."

Dhiti winced at the mention of Senshi. "Can we _not_ use that particular word in public, please?"

"What, 'kinky'?"

"No, 'Sen—'" Pause. "Uh. Yes, 'kinky.' As you know, we prefer the word 'exotic' instead."

"Well, I can accept that. You yourself, Dhiti-chan, would have to be about as 'exotic' as they come."

"No, no." Dhiti tugged an imaginary forelock. "I defer to the master."

"Oh, I don't think so. I'm not much of one for exotica. Though—" Kin leered at her—"kinky is another matter."

"Fair enough. If you insist that I'm the master, how can I say no? All the same, Kin-chan—" Dhiti grew a little more serious for a moment. "A little care and attention, huh?"

Kin had the grace to look abashed for a moment. "Okay. Sorry."

"Hmph. Okay.…So, you like it kinky, though? Is that why you and Liam-kun broke it up again?"

The other girl stiffened. "Drop it, Dhiti-chan."

"After all, you—"

"I mean it. Drop it. Now."

"…Right you are." Dhiti looked around. "Damn it, what's happened to Hayashi, anyway?"

"Oh, nice segue."

"No, I actually meant it this time."

Kin glanced at her watch and raised her eyebrows. "She has been a while, hasn't she? Maybe you should try calling her. Aren't you supposed to have some kind of magic dingus?"

Dhiti winced. "Do you have any idea how that sounds?" She clasped her hands together and warbled theatrically, "'Oh, Dhiti-chan, won't you show me your dingus?'" Several other nearby students started to look in their direction.

"Hmm," said Kin. "Now that you mention it—"

"As it happens," Dhiti interrupted, smirking, "I do indeed have a dingus. You wanna see it?"

Kin sat up straight, her eyes sparkling. "I can't wait!"

"Huh. You _said_ you liked it kinky and I didn't believe you."

Behind them, a boy said, "It's just Sharma and Okamura again." The other students started to lose interest and turn away.

Kin waited a little, and then snickered. "You could stand up, right now, and tell them all that you're Sailor Mercury, and they wouldn't believe a word."

"Yeah. Isn't it great?"

The other girl giggled again. "Tell them that I'm Sailor Moon. See how they react to that."

"Har-de-har-har. How do you know you're _not_?"

"Oh, wouldn't that be cool? Then I'd be a princess and you'd have to bow down to me."

Dhiti huffed. "You can make me bow down, but I ain't gonna kiss your foot."

"Oh, you're no fun any more. I _do_ wash my feet…sometimes. Anyway, weren't you going to call Miyo-chan?"

"Nice segue." Dhiti grinned at her. "Okay, okay. Anyone watching?" She waited for Kin to shake her head, then touched buttons on her communicator. Kin watched, fascinated. A few seconds later, the tiny screen lit up with Miyo's face.

"Yo, Hayashi," Dhiti said before Miyo could speak. "So what is it? More bad guys?"

Miyo did not answer at once. At last she said, "No, it's not…not like that. I—" She took a deep breath. "It's complicated. I can't…can't talk about it now."

Kin leaned forward. "Miyo-chan? Are you all right?"

"Oh, gods. Is Kin-chan there too?" The picture on the screen gave a sharp jerk, as if Miyo had sat down suddenly.

"Hayashi—"

"After school, Dhiti-chan. I'll tell you then. I…I have to go now."

The communicator screen went blank. Dhiti and Kin look at each other. Neither spoke for some time.

"She looked like she'd been crying," said Kin at last.

"Yeah," said Dhiti. "She did."

She thought, briefly, about ducking out of school and running to help. She might have done it, too, if she had any idea where to go. But Miyo hadn't sounded the way she had when her parents threw her out. Upset, yes; but…

"You think it's her family again?" asked Kin.

"If it is, I'm going to kill Fujimaro-kun."

"I might help."

"I'll tell her you said so." Dhiti stared blankly out of the window. After a little she muttered, "After school, she said. I suppose I'm going to miss my club meeting."

"Oh, there's a hardship," said Kin. "_Another_ new club? What happened to the ikebana?"

"That's Mondays. And it's an evening class, anyway, not a club. No, I thought I'd try the film club. Today was supposed to be my first day." She sighed, and looked down at her communicator. "Normally I go to at least a _few_ meetings before I start dropping them. This could give me a bad name."

"The things you do for Miyo-chan, eh?"

"Well, yeah. Now why can't Hayashi see it that way?" But the moment of humour faded from Dhiti's face. "She sounded…pretty unhappy, didn't she?"

The school bell rang before Kin could reply. The two exchanged a final doubtful look, then obediently put the remains of their lunches away and got out their math books. It looked like being a long afternoon.

There was more to come, as it turned out. At the end of the next class, as Ihara-sensei was leaving, their homeroom teacher came in. She had a troubled expression. She stood silently at the head of the classroom as the students stood and bowed. Then, quietly, she announced that, due to a personal emergency at home, Hayashi Miyo had been withdrawn from the school by her guardian. She was not expected to return.

The class erupted in an uproar. The teacher's voice was almost drowned out as she added that the next class would be treated as a study period. Then she left.

Dhiti and Kin's eyes met. It looked as though the afternoon would be a very long one indeed.

* * *

Kitada Masao opened his eyes, then closed them again with a groan. The world was too bright. His head hurt.

He re-opened one eye gingerly, and found the light bearable this time. Things swam around him, then steadied. He was lying in a strange bed, somewhere white.

Then a familiar figure stepped into view. Captain Hiiro.

The sight brought it all back to him. The raid. Pappa-san's escape. Artemis, and a conversation in a car. And his decision.

"Feeling better?" said Hiiro.

"Where am I?" Masao asked. Turning his head brought more pain, but it was not too bad this time. It looked like he was in…"A hospital?"

"Bingo." Hiiro swung up the little monitor pad hanging from the end of the bed and started to read it. With a clucking sound, a nurse tried to stop him, but he fended her off casually. "Looks like some bangs and scrapes and a mild concussion, but that's about all," he announced. The nurse gave an indignant sniff, and departed. "Want to tell me about it?"

Masao tried to think. His head felt thick. "I…had a crash?" he said hopefully.

"Tell me something I don't know," Hiiro said with a pained look. "We had to do some fast talking to 'P' Division, by the way. They were pretty curious about what you were doing in a car registered to Pappa-san."

"Oh. Er, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Kitada, at the risk of repeating myself, what happened?"

"I…" Masao made a fast decision. "We were driving along—and then he started talking. You know, him. Artemis. It startled me; I must have swerved…" He trailed off with a convincing sigh. "I'm sorry."

"And so am I." Hiiro looked down at him in silence. Masao started to feel anxious; but then Hiiro said, "What did he say?"

"Oh…that if we believed Pappa-san was working with the Sankaku, we were crazy. Something like that."

"There was no sign of him in the car wreckage. The cage had been bent open. Just bad luck, I guess."

"I guess so," Masao agreed.

"Yeah." Hiiro rubbed his forehead. "That was all, then?"

"Yes. I'm—"

"Sorry, yes. You said." Hiiro studied Masao for a long moment, then glanced back down at the monitor pad. "Well, from the looks of this you shouldn't be stuck in here for too long," he said lightly. "I'll have someone pick you up when they check you out."

Masao nodded.

"It'll be handy to have you back. This case has blown wide open, as I guess you know, and we're going to have our hands full for a while. Even if we've lost our prisoners, we still have a lot more to go on than we did before."

Another uncertain nod.

"It may be a while longer yet before we can let you go back to your real job. Though I suppose by now your boss is resigned to it."

"I…guess so."

"Too bad for him." Hiiro turned to go, then looked back. "Oh…one more thing," he said conversationally. "Was the crash real? Or did you just let him go?"

"Was—?" Masao froze, staring at him.

"Look, don't fuck with me, Kitada. It's been a bad day and I'm tired. You're a lousy liar; your story's about as full of holes as Pappa-san's car. Was—the—crash—real?"

Masao said slowly, "If you think you already know the truth, then why ask me?"

"We could call it a character test, but you already flunked that part, when I asked you if that was all and you said yes. Now just tell me the goddamn truth, will you?"

"I…" Masao took a deep breath. "I let him go."

"Yes, I know." Hiiro grinned at him. He walked back around the bed and sat down in a light plastic chair, then studied Masao for a few seconds. "Now for the _real_ character test," he said. "Tell me why."

"Why?" Masao stared at him, incredulous. "What does it matter why?" he demanded. "I lied to you! You're going to throw me out, maybe arrest me…Why draw it out?"

"Because I want to know," Hiiro said. "Tell me."

"Because…because it was the right thing to do, damn it! We had no business taking him prisoner, and you know it."

Hiiro cocked an eyebrow at him. "I don't know anything of the sort. He was a material witness, and likely an accomplice, to a suspected Sankaku associate. He interfered with enforcement officers conducting a legal arrest. Probably half a dozen other things. We had every right, not to mention obligation, to take him in. Try again."

"Oh, what's the point?"

"Try again," Hiiro repeated.

"Because he was right," Masao said in a low voice. "Because sometimes we have to choose. What to believe in. Even _whether_ to believe. We have to…to be ready to take a stand, for…for whatever has meaning in our lives." He shook his head. "I can't say it right; it just comes out sounding hokey. But it isn't! It's the most important thing in the world. It's—"

"Faith?" suggested Hiiro.

"Yes!" Masao gave him a faintly wondering look. "You do understand."

Hiiro shook his head. "That's one smooth-talking cat," he said. "I could almost get to like him. Kitada, I hate to break it to you, but very little of the world runs on what you believe in your heart. The world doesn't _care_. There is no tooth fairy, and love and justice don't always win."

"That's no reason to give up," Masao said stubbornly.

Hiiro started to answer, then paused. Unwillingly, his face broke into a grin. "You're a starry-eyed romantic," he accused.

"…What's it to you if I am?"

"Maybe a lot," said Hiiro slowly. "Why _did_ you let him go, Kitada?"

Masao blinked. "I told just you—"

"No, you didn't. You gave me a lot of sentimental waffle, and I'm sure you meant it sincerely, but you weren't telling me why you let Artemis go." Hiiro cocked an eyebrow at him. "You were telling me why we should let _Hino_ go."

"I—" Masao fumbled to a stop. "Maybe I was," he admitted, surprised.

"So what was the reason, Kitada? The _real_ reason. Why did you let him go?"

"Because—because—" He groped for words. Earlier today, in the car, he had thought he'd known what he was doing, and why; but now it appeared that nothing was what it seemed, and even Hiiro was a far deeper man than he'd imagined. So why _had_ he let the cat go?

"Because he's _Artemis_," he said at last.

"Ah." Hiiro nodded once. "Now there, at last, you speak a word I understand." He studied Masao for a second longer, then glanced at his watch. He stood abruptly. "All right; that's enough. Get your clothes on. We're overdue back at headquarters, and there's a lot of work to do."

"You…what?" Masao gave him an incredulous look. "That's it? You're not firing me, or throwing me in jail?"

"So it seems."

"Why _not_?" he demanded. "How can you ever trust me again?"

Hiiro looked amused. "Open your eyes, Kitada. I never trusted you in the first place. I know your limits a little better now; that's all."

"I…don't understand."

"You don't say." Hiiro studied him, then thoughtfully sat back down, straddling the chair with his arms hung loosely over the back. "All right. Let me spell it out in words of one syllable. Later on we might be too busy for me to hold your hand, so pay attention.

"You were talking about choosing, before. It was a valid point. But your mistake is in not realising that we _all_ make choices. We all decide: who to trust, who to believe…who to follow.

"Me, now, I chose a long time ago. I gave my loyalty to 'S' Division, because I happen to believe that what we do is important." He lowered his head to look Masao in the eye. "That doesn't mean that I always agree with what I'm told to do. And it doesn't mean that what I'm told to do is always 'good'—even assuming there's any such thing as an objective 'good.' Do you follow me, Kitada? What it does mean is that when I'm given orders, I obey them. Because I have made that commitment. Because that's what it takes.

"Do you understand?" he said. "_That's what it takes_. The willingness to do the things you don't like…because, sometimes, they need doing."

"But you can't just blindly do whatever you're told," Masao protested. "That's a…a total abdication of responsibility."

"Not at all. There is blood on my hands; I acknowledge that. I'm sure some of it was justly spilt…and I suspect that some of it wasn't. I don't try to deny my guilt. But when I'm given an order, I'm seldom in a position to judge its morality. I don't necessarily know the big picture. That's _why_ we have to obey orders, even if we don't like them: because we don't know. We just have to have faith that the ones in charge _do_ know. And so we pick our loyalties…and we stick with them.

"Kuroi, now…he and I go way back. His first loyalty isn't to 'S' Division; it's to me, personally. If I say go, he'll go. If I ask him, he'll tell me if he thinks I'm wrong; but once I give the order, he's committed. The others, Aoiro, Mitsukai—well, they all have their reasons and their loyalties, one way or another. They're all committed to the job, or I wouldn't be working with them.

"And then there's you."

"Me?" repeated Masao.

"Yes." Hiiro studied him for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, he shot from his chair. "Come on, Kitada, get a move on. Aren't you dressed yet?" Before Masao could say a word, he turned and strode quickly out of the room.

Masao pulled himself out of bed and got dressed, wincing occasionally. His mind was whirling. What had Hiiro been talking about? What had he been trying to say?

And what was Masao supposed to do now?

- - -

Kuroi was waiting out in the corridor. Hiiro nodded to him and said, "He let the cat go."

The other man cocked an eyebrow. "Then crashed the car and put himself in hospital to cover up? Pretty ballsy."

"Sounds like something you'd do, right?"

Kuroi did not even pause to think. "No."

"Oh?" Hiiro considered. "I suppose not."

They made their way down to the nurses' station. The nurse whom Hiiro had shooed away before was there, talking angrily to another woman. She saw them coming and stalked off before they could get there, the sound of her heels sharp on the polished floor. Hiiro grinned.

He showed the duty nurse his ID, and she handed him a clipboard full of forms. He started to flip through them. After a few moments Kuroi said, "You're keeping him on, then?"

"Yes," said Hiiro. "He might be important."

Kuroi did not answer; he simply waited.

Hiiro finished the last form with a snap and passed the clipboard back to the nurse, then led Kuroi a few paces away. "His loyalties aren't set," he said thoughtfully. "Not yet. He still believes in right and wrong. It makes him dangerous, true—if someone changes his mind, he'll turn his coat. All the same…"

Kuroi said, "You want a canary."

"Yes. You _do_ see." Hiiro gave him an approving look. "There's something big going on here, and I don't like it. Some funny orders coming down from above. Shiro sees it too; otherwise he wouldn't be stalling on the Hayashi girl."

He paused, chewing on the idea. "The whole situation's looking nasty, and I'm not sure that we're on the right side. That's why I want Kitada. Because maybe, just maybe, I'm going to need someone on my team with a conscience."

* * *

A pause came in gym class, and Mark squatted down to take a breather. Liam sat beside him, watching the girls' class on the other side of the field. His eyes never left one small, golden-haired figure.

After a little he said, "You heard what happened?"

Mark snorted. "The whole school's heard what happened by now," he said angrily. "I was going to do it today—ask her out, and the hell with waiting. But now—"

"Mm. I wasn't talking about that, though."

"What, then?

"Her brother." Liam paused for a moment, his brows knitting. "Ichiro, I think it was. He'd be a year ahead of us—"

"Ichiyo."

"Whatever. I hear he got a phone call at lunch time. Apparently, the other brother—Fujisomething, he's at Kamome Junior High—got sent home. They're talking about expelling him."

Mark looked up sharply. "Expelling? What for?"

"Fighting. It seems somebody said something bad about his sister."

The two exchanged a look. At last Mark said, "Damn."

Liam nodded slowly. "This Ichiro, now," he said meditatively. "I hear that he's not one to be too sympathetic about what happened to his sister."

"That's what I hear," said Mark.

"Mm. It's nice to know that someone in the family is still on her side."

"Ye-es." Mark was silent for some time. "Fujimaro-kun. I suppose I could find him, talk to him," he said at last. "He might even know what's really happened to her."

"You don't have to sound so eager," Liam said sarcastically.

"Well, would you be so eager to talk to a complete stranger about wanting to date his sister?" demanded Mark.

"Ah." Liam finally tore his eyes away from Kin as he considered this. "You may have stumbled on one of the universal woes of manhood, there."

"Fat lot of help you are."

The gym teacher's whistle blew, and they looked up, startled. "You there! The unheavenly twins!" the teacher called. "Get a move on!"

Mark stood up again with a groan. "Sometimes," he said, "I dream I can find a way to sort all this out so everyone ends up happy. Silly, huh?"

Liam shrugged, and joined him. "Sometimes I dream I'm a secret agent. I expect dreams are what you make of them, mostly."

"You're a big help. C'mon, let's go."

* * *

The school day finally ended. Dhiti headed outside at a speed that she never showed in PE class, found a secluded spot and tapped her communicator. As soon as the tiny screen lit up, she burst out, "Hayashi, what the _hell_?!"

"…Dhiti-chan," said Miyo's voice. She sounded resigned. "Dead on time."

"Don't you try to put me off," said Dhiti, almost savagely. "I'm…very unputoffable. Damn it, Hayashi, the teacher announced that you were leaving, in front of the whole class! What the hell's happened?"

After a moment she added, in a puzzled tone, "And why can't I see your face?"

"I…it's a long story, Dhiti-chan. It would be better if we can meet, so I can explain. If you—"

"I'll be at the Olympus in twenty minutes."

"No! Not there. If we go to…oh, let me think. I can't come to your house. How about…"

"Why not Beth-chan's favourite warehouse?" asked Dhiti sarcastically.

"That could work, actually. At least everyone knows where it is."

"What, you're serious?" Dhiti raised her eyebrows. "All right…whatever. I'll get Kin-chan and we'll meet you in—"

"Just you, Dhiti-chan."

"Huh? But—"

"You can tell her later, I suppose. But I need the others to hear this too, and I…don't think Kin-chan should be there."

Dhiti did not answer for some time. Her mind was racing in circles. At last she said, "Hayashi, what's _wrong_?"

There was only silence from the communicator. Then, unexpectedly, Miyo gave a dry chuckle. "Wait and see, Dhiti-chan. I think you'll be surprised."

"Oh, come on," Dhiti protested. "You—"

"Never mind. I've got to call the others. I'll see you…in a bit."

"Why do I think this isn't a good surprise?" But the communicator had gone dead. Dhiti stared at it, then let her arm drop.

Then she was running again: first to find Kin, and probably an argument; and then to get to a warehouse whose location she barely remembered. Why did life have to be so _complicated_?

- - -

Suzue received Miyo's call with equanimity. She had been to the warehouse twice before, and had little trouble finding it again. When she arrived, she found Beth and Iku already there, waiting outside the gate.

"Oh, hi, Suzue-san," Beth said as she approached. "Have you any idea what this is about?"

Suzue shrugged. "A Senshi meeting, I expect," she said. "Miyo-san didn't say."

"I suppose so. She sounded as if something was bothering her, though, so I just wondered…"

"Hm. I imagine we'll find out soon enough."

"…I suppose," Beth said reluctantly.

An awkward silence fell. Suzue looked around, trying to think of something to talk about. At last she nodded toward the gate. "Should we go in, do you think?"

"Well, it's locked. We'd have to climb over…or transform, of course." Beth looked through the wire fencing, her head cocked to one side. "I wonder why Miyo-san wanted to meet here? I mean, I used to come here all the time with Bendis-chan, but…"

"I don't know." Suzue's eyes moved to a building a few hundred metres from the warehouse gate. It was old and dilapidated, and had clearly been abandoned for some time. More recently, though, it appeared to have been struck with some heavy object. One side had caved in, and the surrounding sections were charred and blackened. Bright orange warning tape marked the damaged areas.

"It's not as badly damaged as I thought," she mused.

Beth followed her look, and winced. "Go ahead," she said. "Rub it in."

"What? Oh. No, I didn't mean that. I was just thinking that it was odd…"

"Odd?" Beth looked at her sharply, then back to the building. "How do you mean?"

"Those men we fought," Suzue said slowly. "They said they were from the Sankaku clans. So why did they have an Opal with them?"

"Eh? Why…wouldn't they?"

"You can't just _buy_ an Opal. Only the government has them. 'P' Division and 'W' Division, mostly—"

"And 'M' Division," added Iku softly.

"Yes." Suzue looked at her sharply. "Those men were in 'M' Division uniforms, weren't they?"

"They said they were in disguise," Iku said.

"Okay. I suppose they could have stolen an Opal, too." Suzue frowned. "They _must_ have done. Why would 'M' division attack us?"

"So what's the problem?" asked Beth.

"Nothing, I suppose. I just…thought that the Sankaku would have been more…competent, somehow."

Beth stared at her. Then she chortled. "You _want_ our enemies to be more competent?"

It was Suzue's turn to stare. "What on earth are you talking about? Of course not!"

"Okay, okay. You know, you've got to learn to take a joke, Suzue-chan."

Suzue's brow wrinkled at the 'chan', but she let it pass. "I just don't see _why_ they were so bad at it," she argued. "You know, you always hear about the Sankaku as being master criminals, but if one of them had simply held a gun at Iku-san's head—" She broke off, seeing Iku's sudden, horrified look, and realised with a start what she had been saying. "All right, I'm sorry," she went on. "It was just an example. But—why _didn't_ they? Why did they handle it all so badly? You see what I'm getting at?"

"Umm. I think so," said Beth.

Hesitantly, Iku said, "You think that…if they seem to be so incompetent, then perhaps…"

"Perhaps they're anything but," finished Beth. "Perhaps they're doing it to fool us."

"In which case…what are they drawing our attention away from?" added Suzue grimly.

Beth let out a whistle. "That's pretty subtle," she said. "You really think they could be that smart?"

"If I could think of it, why couldn't they?" replied Suzue matter-of-factly. She looked around, her brow creasing. "Shouldn't the others be here by now?"

"They've got further to come." But Beth looked around, too. "Maybe we should head in. People will think it's odd if they notice a bunch of girls standing around outside a warehouse."

Suzue nodded; after a moment, Iku did too. Beth led them to the gates. They were closed and locked, but there was enough give in the chain that held them together for the girls to squeeze through.

Inside, the road led between a row of buildings, ending in a broad, open courtyard. Suzue came to a halt, studying the place. The last time she had been here, it had been by night.

The courtyard was much larger than it appeared from the street outside; most of it was shielded by the surrounding buildings. Tall, rusting industrial cranes lined one side. Several of the buildings had open loading docks, some of them littered with empty metal drums. The ground between them was paved, but the tarmac was cracked and broken in places, letting grass and even a few summer flowers show through. The buildings themselves were dirty, their paint fading, none of them more than three stories high. There was a smell of old oil in the air.

"Ugly," she said idly.

"Yeah," said Beth. "But it's all abandoned; nobody comes here. You know," she went on eagerly, "we could use this as a training area. It's a lot easier to get to than that place Itsuko-san took us—"

"Someone did come here, last week," Suzue reminded her.

"But—"

"And Lady Blue attacked you and Iku-san here, if I recall."

"Oh, all _right_. It was just an idea." Beth made a face at her. "We really could use another training area, though. I wonder how the old-time Senshi managed?"

Suzue raised her eyebrows. "You know, that's an interesting question." There was nothing about it in any of the holy books that she had heard of. "Perhaps they had the same problem?" she mused.

"Probably," Beth said darkly. "Crazies everywhere, waiting to mob them if they showed their faces. It happened to me once, you know."

"It…did?"

"Back when I was just starting out. This man—one of the Loonies, or something mad like that—"

A little angrily, Suzue said, "You know, the Church of Serenity aren't all madmen, and it's not very nice to call them Loonies."

"Ha! You didn't see this guy, Suzue-chan. Let me tell _you_ a thing or two." Speaking quickly, Beth told her what had happened: the jewel robbery and the wounded officer from 'P' Division; her intervention as Sailor Venus; the scorn of the woman she had saved; and finally, the man who had knelt at her feet and tried to kiss her hand, and beseeched her to carry a message to the ears of the 'Blessed Lady Serenity.' As she spoke, Beth became visibly agitated, and by the time she finished, she was almost shivering at the memory.

"Yes," Suzue said thoughtfully. "I can see how that would be…unpleasant."

It was true. She had never considered the question from that viewpoint before, and the idea was somehow disturbing. For the first time, she wondered how Itsuko had felt when Suzue had knelt at _her_ feet; and the thought made her feel slightly ill.

Even worse was the possibility that, as a Senshi, Suzue herself was now one of the Elect. What if other Church members knew who she was? People she knew; friends and even family? How would they react? What if…her _parents_ wanted to kneel to her? She shuddered.

Beth must have noticed. She nodded and said, "Yeah. It got to me, for a while. Bendis-chan helped me sort it out; but still, if I saw that guy again…brr."

"I think…perhaps I know what you mean." It occurred to Suzue, suddenly, that she was in quite a similar position to Beth. She found herself wondering how much that gave them in common; and even if, in spite of everything, she might be able to confide in the girl.

"You know," she said slowly, "there's something that maybe I ought to tell you—"

"Hello-o!" called a voice suddenly, making her jump. She looked around and saw Dhiti walking up from the gate, waving.

_Perfect timing,_ she thought ruefully.

Then again, perhaps it was a good thing that she had been interrupted. Once again, she had managed to miss Iku. The girl was so quiet, it was easy to forget she was there…

"Good afternoon," she said coolly as Dhiti reached them.

"Wow, what's wrong with all of you?" Dhiti replied cheerfully. "You look like you've been kissing toads."

Suzue stared at her. "We _what_?"

"It's not that bad," Beth put in. "We were just talking about…some stuff. It doesn't really matter."

"Kissing toads always matters, Beth-chan. Don't let anyone tell you different."

"No, I meant—"

"Though to be honest, when it comes to toads I'd actually prefer not to know the sordid details."

Beth narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? _Which_ one of us has the toad fetish here?"

"It's too dry for toads," said Iku, very quietly.

Dhiti and Beth broke off, staring at Iku. The girl shrank back, as if frightened by their attention. Then, slowly, Dhiti's face broke into a smile. "Not bad, Iku-chan," she said. "Not bad at all."

"What are you all _talking_ about?" Suzue burst out. "We were having a serious discussion, and suddenly it's all…toads! Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"No, Suzue-san, it's quite important, really," Dhiti told her earnestly.

Suzue blinked, taken aback. "It is?"

"Absolutely. You see, kissing toads can cause chapped lips, so—"

"Oh, you're impossible!"

Suzue whirled and started to stalk away, infuriated. It was bad enough that Dhiti seemed incapable of taking anything seriously. Worse yet, the others were all too ready to go along with her. Couldn't they see how ridiculously they were behaving?

A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked around. "Come on," said Dhiti softly. "It's just a bit of fun. Don't get grumpy."

"Why not?" asked Suzue petulantly.

"Because then we'd have to start calling you 'Grumpy-san.'"

"You—" She stared at Dhiti, on the verge of exploding again. "You _are_ impossible."

Dhiti shrugged and said, "That's what they tell me." She winked at Suzue, a faint grin quirking the corner of her mouth. "Friends?"

Suzue looked at her for a moment longer. Then, defeated, she let herself sag back. "…I suppose so," she muttered.

"That's the spirit! Now, come on. We've got to be ready to hear this big news of Hayashi's…"

Suzue followed Dhiti back to rejoin the others. She felt muddled, annoyed—and yet, at the same time, oddly relaxed. It was all very confusing.

- - -

Beth watched the two of them come back with a sense of relief. Suzue and Dhiti sometimes seemed to get on like a house on fire, and not in a good way. Dhiti could never take anything seriously, and Suzue was…not cold, exactly, but…oh, well, never mind. The two of them had obviously made up, so that was all right. Surely.

She wondered, though, what Suzue had been about to tell her. Well, she could always ask later.

"So," she said as the two drew near. "Dhiti-chan, did Obaasan tell _you_ why she wanted this meeting?"

Dhiti blinked, then frowned. "No," she said. "Actually, it was kind of weird, what happened." She outlined what had happened quickly: Miyo's sudden departure from school, their communicator call, and finally, the astonishing announcement in class.

"Withdrawn from school?" said Suzue, startled. She thought, then said, "Has anyone tried calling Itsuko-san?"

"Er—no," Dhiti admitted. "I was in a bit of a hurry, and—"

"And you didn't think of it," Suzue finished. There might possibly have been a faint smile on her lips. "Never mind. But maybe you should try now. Artemis gave her a communicator, so…"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Dhiti, chagrined. "Just give me a second—"

"Don't bother," said Miyo's voice from behind them.

Beth turned, and jumped. It was not Miyo at all; it was a stranger. But what was a stranger doing here? And where had Miyo's voice come from?

Then she realised what she was seeing, and yelped in surprise.

The Miyo that stood before them was a changed person. Her clothes were unfamiliar. Her eyes had mysteriously become brown. Her skin had darkened a little, as if she had somehow acquired a tan overnight. Her figure seemed different, too, though Beth could not immediately pinpoint how.

And her hair—her beautiful mane of chestnut hair—had been shorn. It was barely shoulder-length, curled inward at the ends; and it was black.

Beth could not speak; she could only stare. At last she managed to stammer out, "What—what—"

"Hayashi!" groaned Dhiti in real horror. "Hayashi, what have you _done_!"

Miyo gave her a sardonic smile. "Surprise," she said.

"Don't tell me that!" Dhiti shouted. "You can't do that! You can't—oh, Hayashi, oh, Miyo, what have you done to yourself?"

"They found her, Dhiti-chan." Miyo's voice was level; but there was a sudden, fierce note in it. Her fists were clenched. "They found Itsuko. And now it's all gone to hell."

"Perhaps," suggested Suzue carefully, "you should start at the beginning."

Miyo told them. The raid on the Olympus; Itsuko's forced flight, and her unexpected rescue. Eyebrows lifted at the mention of the semi-mythical Sailor Pluto, but Suzue firmly kept the others from interrupting. When the story was finished, a long, dismayed silence fell.

"So…you…" faltered Beth at last.

Miyo laughed harshly. "Itsuko said it. If she has to run, I have to go with her. Where else have I got to go?" She shook her head. "So Hayashi Miyo has to disappear. And you get to have a new me. Contact lenses, and body dye, and…" She grimaced. "I hope you like it."

Dhiti did not answer in words. She walked up to Miyo, took her by the chin, and studied her face for a long moment. Then, still not speaking, she put her arms around the girl and hugged her.

After a moment, Miyo gave her an awkward hug back. "Thank you, Dhiti-chan," she said softly. "That means a lot."

"I don't like this, Hayashi," Dhiti answered, her voice muffled. "I don't like it at all." She lifted her head from Miyo's shoulder, looked her in the eye, and said, "Just…promise me that _you_ won't change. That you'll stay _you_. Promise me."

Miyo looked oddly touched. "I promise," she said.

"All right, then." Dhiti sighed. "You know, if you really have to—" She broke off suddenly and pulled away from Miyo. "You feel funny," she said, puzzled, and studied her for a moment. "Hayashi, what've you done to your chest?"

"Er—"

"Oh, so _that's_ what it is," said Beth in sudden realisation. "I thought you looked different, Miyo-san."

Suddenly everyone was looking at her. She flushed. "Um…apart from the obvious, that is."

"I'm wearing a minimiser bra," said Miyo stiffly. "Itsuko thought I should try to be a little less…"

"Outstanding?" suggested Dhiti. Iku made a tiny sound that could almost have been a laugh.

It drew her a glare. "Thank you so much. Look, the more different I look, the better, all right?" She rubbed her chest absently. "It's not the most comfortable thing in the world to wear, but it's not too bad."

"The sacrifices you have to make," said Dhiti sympathetically.

"Yes, I—Oh, shut up, you!" Miyo aimed a clout at Dhiti's head and the Claver girl ducked, snickering.

Suzue shook her head. "I don't know how you can take it all so calmly. You—forgive me, but, well…you already lost your family. This, though—it must be like losing—"

"Myself?" Miyo sobered, and gave her a cold smile. "Oh, I haven't forgotten. But I've done my crying, Suzue-san. Now—" She took a deep breath. "Perhaps it's time for me to grow up. Start fighting back.

"This was a defeat, yes. But I'm not going to tuck my head in and wail about it. I may have to hide who I am for now, but I swear to you, it won't be forever. I have a life to live…and I'm going to _live_ it!"

"Yes," said Iku, softly but firmly.

"Bravo," echoed Suzue.

"Yes, well," Miyo said, a little embarrassed. "Thanks."

"So you have to start a whole new life," Beth mused. "In disguise…on the run from the law…it's very romantic."

Miyo stared at her. "Romantic—"

"Never mind that," said Dhiti fiercely. "Hayashi, what happens now? What are you going to do? Where will you _live_? Don't tell me you just have to leave! We need you!"

"I'm not leaving," said Miyo. "Itsuko and I have a place to stay. I'll give you the address. But…" She shook her head. "Dhiti-chan, you know I don't like this either. But it's not like I'll be gone. I may have to go in disguise, and switch to a new school, and I…" She faltered suddenly. "I have to get a new name, too," she admitted.

Dhiti stared at her, then looked away. "It's all changing," she said unhappily.

Miyo nodded. "I know. I just don't seem to have any choice."

A silence fell, one that grew steadily more uncomfortable. At last, clearing her throat, Beth said, "So, um, do you get to choose a new name yourself? How does that work?"

"Oh. Well, I have to pick one, but…well, I haven't quite decided. Itsuko says I need to tell her soon, because she's got to get me new identity papers." Miyo paused, frowning. "I'm not sure how she's going to do that, either. I asked, but she won't say. Anyway, I—"

"You mean, after all that buildup, you don't _know_?" demanded Dhiti indignantly.

"It's a big decision," Miyo protested.

"You must have some idea," said Suzue.

Miyo hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. She said, "I was thinking of 'Makoto.'"

* * *

When school let out, Aizawa Ochiyo headed for work. She had been a part-time receptionist at the Olympus Gymnasium for a year and a half now: four nights a week, one of them working until midnight. (The schedule rotated, thankfully.) On late nights she got to sleep over at the boss's place, with a free meal thrown in.

The job kept her in spending money, and it was not too hard. It was an added bonus that she actually liked it.

Things were still quiet when she arrived; they wouldn't warm up for an hour or so, when the business crowd started coming in. She climbed the stairs to the gymnasium and put a bundle of flowers down on the reception desk. Then she looked around, puzzled.

Nobody else was there. Where was Marisa, the day receptionist?

After a moment she shrugged, went around the desk and stowed her satchel in the cubbyhole at the rear. She sat down and glanced through the log book. It looked as though the whole day had been slow.

She stopped, and reread the log. That was odd; the last entry was from midmorning. Surely things hadn't been _that_ quiet?

She stared down at the book, dithering, then stood up. A glance down the stairs showed that nobody was coming. She left reception empty and went looking for the other staff.

She found Marisa in the little staff kitchen with Yukimi and Mito, two of the trainers. They were talking in low voices, but broke off quickly as Ochiyo came in. "Oh, you're here," said Yukimi. "Good. Were you on late shift last night?"

"No, not until next Saturday," said Ochiyo. "Why? What's happened? Where is everyone?"

"Where is Pappadopoulos-san, is the question," said Yukimi with a sniff. She was a haughty, arrogant woman to the other staff, but ingratiating with the customers. Ochiyo did not like her much. "She disappeared this morning, and nobody's seen her. I _thought_ she might have said something to you last night."

"There were strange men in and out of her office all morning," put in Marisa. A fifty-ish woman with a strong accent, she looked upset. "Norie-chan asked them what they did, and they told her they were from 'P' Division!"

Ochiyo blinked. "The police? Were they here about the burglary?"

"Burglary?" said Mito, startled.

"Burglary?" demanded Yukimi at the same time. "What burglary?"

"Oh, la, I remember," said Marisa. "That was…a month ago, yes? Someone, they broke into Pappadopoulos-sama's apartment?"

"Yes," said Ochiyo, and shivered. She had been there at the time. She still remembered it vividly: the black figure, appearing suddenly out of the darkness; the hand over her mouth, and the cold spray on her face.

There had been another break-in too, just a week ago; but that had been an altogether more inexplicable affair. Itsuko had told her later that it had been a practical joke, but it certainly had not seemed like one at the time.

"I would not think it was that," said Marisa. "Why, they told Norie-chan that if anyone sees Pappadopoulos-sama, they must report it immediately!"

"It's all very mysterious," added Mito. He was a tall, athletic man, popular among the female customers, with a narrow, bony face. "Like something out of a crime novel."

"_I_ think Pappadopoulos-san is in some kind of trouble," said Yukimi. From the thin smile on her face, the idea seemed to please her.

Marisa sniffed. "Now there's a mushroom idea," she said.

Ochiyo lifted her hand to hide a smile. Marisa was from Grande Brasile in southern Americay, and she sometimes had a curious turn of phrase. They were all at least slightly mad in Grande Brasile, supposedly.

Yukimi did not smile; she glared at Marisa and said acidly, "And what would you know? If you ask me, there's been something a little fishy about Pappadopoulos-san all along. Where does a Greek woman get the money to buy a building like this, for a start?"

"Oh, come," protested Mito. "You can't be suggesting she's—"

"Then why do the police want her?" said Yukimi. "Why were they taking all her files away? And where _is_ she?"

"But surely you can't think Pappadopoulos-san would—" Ochiyo began. But even as she spoke she realised, appalled, that that was exactly what Yukimi did think. She broke off, staring at the woman in shock.

"You are talking nonsense," said Marisa to Yukimi angrily, and Ochiyo wanted to applaud. "Crazy nonsense! I have worked for Pappadopoulos-sama for more than six years, and you won't find a better, more generous woman!" Under her breath she added, contemptuously, "Mushroom, la."

"Then where is she?" Yukimi repeated. There was a smug satisfaction in her voice that Ochiyo longed to puncture; but she could not. Where _was_ Itsuko? She could only stare at the woman, hating her a little. Marisa, too, gave Yukimi a look that was filled with loathing, and then turned and stormed out.

"Really, there could be a lot of explanations," pointed out Mito. "We don't know that she won't be back any minute. And heaven knows, the whole business in her office could be…I don't know; a tax audit, perhaps. I'm sure it's all perfectly innocent."

"By 'P' Division?" said Yukimi.

"There could be a lot of explanations," he said again; but his tone had a sudden weak uncertainty and Ochiyo realised that he, too, was beginning to doubt.

Sickened and not wanting to hear any more, she turned away. "Mushroom," she whispered under her breath. She had no idea what it meant, but somehow it was comforting.

She followed Marisa back out to reception. The Brasealan woman was at the desk, packing items into her little shoulder satchel. She looked up as Ochiyo came in.

"Ochiyo-chan," she said. "You must not believe anything that…that foolish woman says! Pappadopoulos-sama is—"

"I know," said Ochiyo.

"She is a paragon, a hero among women! Why, when first I came to Japan, she gave me such help, she—" Marisa gave a loud sniff, and Ochiyo suddenly realised that the woman was close to tears. Any sense of amusement at her words suddenly vanished.

"I don't believe Yukimi-san," Ochiyo said. "I don't like her."

"That is good." Marisa gave her a quick smile. "You have a strong heart." Then she looked back to the desk, and flinched. "Oh, la, and I have not finished my work! The log is undone, and—"

"It's okay," Ochiyo told her. "I can do it." She touched Marisa on the shoulder. "I'm sure it'll be all right."

As she spoke, she wondered if she believed it.

Marisa stood at the desk for a moment longer, then relaxed. She nodded sharply. "Very well. I will see you tomorrow, then. Be well, Ochiyo-chan." She smiled at Ochiyo again, then headed down the stairs, her steps quick and jerky. Ochiyo stood looking after her for several seconds, trying to decide what to do.

Then she heard more footsteps—a sharper, male stride—coming up. A customer, arriving for his regular workout. Abruptly, she remembered what she was supposed to do. She sat down at the reception desk, and when the man came into view, she offered him a big smile.

- - -

The afternoon dragged past. All the staff were nervous and subdued, and before long the mood infected the customers as well. More and more of them cut their sessions short and left early. Ochiyo found herself wondering what would become of the gymnasium if Itsuko never came back at all.

Her shift finally ended at seven, and she picked up her bag as soon as Ryobe arrived to take over. He raised an eyebrow at the flowers on the desk, grinned at her obvious eagerness to be gone, and waved her out.

She started down the stairs. Then, on a sudden odd impulse, she turned and went up instead. She stood for a moment on the top landing, listening. The upper floor was silent. She nodded to herself and went on.

Itsuko's office was sure to be locked; but Ochiyo knew the key code to her apartment. She had to, to get in and out on her late nights. She punched in the number and opened the door.

The apartment was dark and silent. She paused on the threshold for a second, knowing that she had no business being here, and then stepped inside. She walked down the corridor quickly and opened the through-door into the office. "Itsuko-san?" she called quietly.

The office was as dark as the apartment. Ochiyo steeled herself, then turned on the light.

It was a mess. Papers and empty boxes littered the floor. The drawers of the filing cabinets were open, and folders lay stacked haphazardly everywhere. The cupboard in the corner stood ajar, its contents strewn across the carpet. The window had been left open. Itsuko's desk was tidy enough, but it was not in its usual position. Nor was the rest of the furniture.

She took another look at the desk. It was completely clear; even the 'in' and 'out' trays were empty. Most of the folders by the filing cabinets looked empty, too. Yukimi had said that the police had taken Itsuko's papers away, she remembered. Seeing the wretched woman proved right left a sour taste in Ochiyo's mouth.

Feeling ill and depressed, she glanced around the office again, saw nothing else, and then switched off the light and turned away.

Somewhere in the apartment, there was a loud buzz.

She jumped, then relaxed, laughing softly in the darkness. It was just the commset in the living room. Someone calling for Itsuko, or perhaps for that strange, tall girl Itsuko had taken in.

It buzzed again. And again.

Her feet seemed to move by themselves. She found herself looking down at the commset, barely visible in the light filtering through the door. She had no right to answer it; she knew that. But whoever was calling might know what was happening…

It buzzed again, and she picked up the handset. "Yes?" she said.

"Hello?" The voice in her ear sounded like a boy, or perhaps a young man. "Oneechan, is that you?"

In the darkness, Ochiyo blinked, and for a moment, the patent absurdity of the situation got to her. "If I am, my parents have been lying to me for a long time," she said wryly. "Who is this?"

The voice did not answer for a long time. Then, in a low, bitter tone, it said, "I knew it wouldn't be true."

"What?" she said, baffled. "Who _is_ this? Did you want Itsuko-san? Or Miyo-san?" But the commset was dead in her ear. She stared at it, then put it down.

In the darkness, she looked around one last time, and shook her head. There were no answers here. She left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

* * *

Friday was baking hot, without a breath of wind. Beth trudged to school glumly, sweat beading her forehead, her satchel hanging from fingers that felt like rubber. It was only half past eight and already she felt nearly dead.

She had not gotten much sleep the night before. Her bedroom had been completely airless, and she had tossed and turned for hours. Worse, Bendis had been just as restless, and kept getting up to prowl around the room. Each time Beth started to fall into a fitful doze, she would be jerked awake by the cat's soft, padding footsteps.

When her alarm finally went off, she was still lying awake. Her eyes felt half-boiled. She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, not even hearing Bendis' half-hearted good morning, and then screamed in shock when she stepped in before the water had had a chance to run hot. It was not an auspicious start to the day.

She managed to rouse a little more when Nanako joined her at the school gate. Beth raised a limp hand in greeting, too tired to care that they had recently been fighting, and they walked in together.

"Rough night?" inquired Nanako, giving her a curious glance.

"Couldn't sleep," Beth mumbled. "Don't ever get a cat, Nana-chan."

"No?" Nanako looked interested. "Why, is she going into heat or something?"

This idea, finally, shocked Beth wide-awake. "Oh, gods, I hope not. I don't even want to contemplate that." But, unbidden, a mental image of Bendis yowling outside her window sprang into her mind, and she cringed. "Ohh, I contemplated it!"

"Contemplated what?" asked Eitoku's voice.

She looked around to see him approaching, with Iku close behind. "Never mind," she told him.

"But—"

Wildly, Beth grabbed him by the lapels of his uniform jacket. "There are some things," she hissed, "that human beings were not meant to know. All right?"

"All right!" he squeaked, and backed away from her hastily. "For heaven's sake—"

"Beth-chan has cat problems," Nanako put in, smirking.

"Oh, is that all?" Now he was annoyed. "You mean that one that was hanging round school, a while back? If it's a problem, why not get it spayed? Or just get rid of it."

Beth stared at him. She decided that she was never, ever going to mention this conversation to Bendis.

Nanako seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious. "You could get a canary instead," she suggested. "Or white mice."

"Or a dog," Iku said. "I had a dog once. A little puppy…"

"Really?" There was a curious wistfulness in Iku's voice that drew Beth's attention. "Iku-chan, I didn't know you—"

"Whoops," said Nanako suddenly, with an exaggerated look at her watch. "It's almost time. We'd better head in, everyone. Come on."

She led them inside, talking animatedly. Beth followed along, but she hung back a little, not paying much attention. For just a moment there, when Nanako had butted in and cut off her question, she thought there had been an odd expression on Nanako's face. It might have just been Beth's imagination; but it seemed to her that it had looked like pity. Or guilt.

* * *

Late on Friday night, Itsuko drove out of Third Tokyo. Thirty kilometres north-west of the city, the countryside around Lake Tega was still largely rural, and there were no street lights. The night was pitch-black. There was no moon; overhead, the stars were brilliant, but they illuminated nothing. She drove in silence, just her and the beams from her headlights, alone in the dark.

She pulled up by a decaying old boathouse on the lake shore. Its appearance was deceptive; it was a good deal sturdier than it looked, and the lock on the door was excellent. She unlocked it, swearing as she fumbled with the keys, and pulled it open. There was no boat inside; instead, a dark blue van gleamed in the headlights of her car.

She switched the vehicles, and spent a few minutes transferring a number of long, heavy wooden boxes into the rear of the van. Then, leaving the car locked in the boathouse, she drove off again, heading around the lake and then west, over the Tonegawa bridge and across the Kanto plain.

The van was noisier than the electric car; it had an alcohol engine. Permits for such vehicles were hard to come by, and she had not obtained hers legally. Tonight, though, she needed the extra range.

An hour's drive brought her into a thickly wooded region. Ghost-pale tree trunks flicked past in her headlights, their branches a deeper shade of black against the night sky. Ahead and behind, she began to see the lights of other vehicles, moving in the same direction as her.

They were all going to the fair.

'Fair'…such an innocent name; so deceptive. The truth was that the black market fairs could be ruthlessly dangerous to the innocent or the newcomer. They were home to a spectrum of vices, from the comparatively innocent to the thoroughly vile. No names was the rule, and no questions. The people who came to these gatherings had a lot to lose, and they did not give second chances.

Itsuko knew the ropes. She knew what to say, who to talk to, and who to beware of. All the same, she would have to be particularly careful tonight. She had more to lose than usual.

Five minutes further on, the road took a long curve south. She slowed and turned off into a narrow dirt road. It twisted its way through the trees, before suddenly emerging from the forest and passing between well-fenced fields. A horse ranch; she could see glimpses of the animals in her headlights.

Up ahead, one of the fields was filled with light. No doubt the ranch owners had been well-paid for the use of their land tonight. They might even be participants. There was no shortage of people interested in a little off-the-books, tax-free commerce.

A ranch field was an odd sort of venue, perhaps, but hardly exceptional. The locations could be anywhere, and they were always shifting; it would be months or even years before this place was used again. Itsuko had actually taken the Senshi to one of the fairgrounds, not long ago, for a training session. She wondered what the girls would say if they knew what else went on where they had been practising their attacks.

Her headlights picked out an open gate, just ahead. She turned into the field and stopped at the end of a row of other vehicles: vans like hers, cars, trucks, and even a few motorcycles. As she switched off the engine, she could hear voices in the distance.

She took a quick glance in the rear-view mirror and nodded. The wig and glasses had been left behind; for tonight, she was Itsuko again. If all went well, it would be for the last time.

It was after midnight, but the air outside was still warm, and redolent with the aroma of horse. She breathed in through her nose, shrugged, then tucked a small leather satchel under her arm and headed over toward the lights.

She had to pass through an inner fence on the way. A group of men and women stood at the gate, talking quietly. They looked up as she approached, and she nodded to them. After a second one of the men nodded back. The others relaxed.

She had been recognised. If they had not known her, and she had not had someone to vouch for her, they would have had to show their weapons. Itsuko knew from humiliating experience just how well-armed they were.

"Hi, Masami-san," she said to the man who had nodded to her, as she reached the gate. "Can I get you anything while I'm inside?"

He looked back at her, expressionless. "Thank you, Pappadopoulos-san," he said. "That won't be necessary."

"Sure." Itsuko could not resist. "You know, I heard a weird rumour about you. Man I was talking to a few weeks ago said he'd actually seen you smile."

Still his face did not move. "Surely not."

"Well, that's what I told _him_. Tell me—" She dropped the levity suddenly. "Who's good with records at the moment?"

He paused, apparently deep in thought. At last, slowly, he said, "Speak to Kuramoto-san. He can give you a referral."

"Kuramoto-san. Thanks." Itsuko turned away and walked through the gate briskly.

The field was busy. Here and there, little tents had been set up, for all the world like a real fairground, but most of the dealing seemed to be done from the backs of vans or trucks. In between, there must have been a thousand or more people bustling about. Some of them were talking and laughing, but most were hushed, moving quickly, their heads and voices low, intent on their business. Somewhere, soft music was playing from a tinny speaker.

Itsuko moved through the crowd, taking her time, nodding to people she recognised and stopping to greet a few. A couple of them asked if she was here with goods. She gave noncommittal answers, and they nodded in return.

She walked past a truck that was unloading carton after carton of data wands—probably pornography—and paused to watch another man lifting heavy sacks from the rear of a van. Coffee, from the smell of it; the markings on the sack were Brasealan. Itsuko was in a similar line, so she took an interest.

A little further on, a heavyset young woman was levering the top off a crate of gold and silver ornaments, packed in wood shavings. Seeing Itsuko's raised eyebrow, the woman said, "Native art from the Virgin Nation. Were you buying?"

Itsuko smiled, shaking her head; the ornaments looked quite good, but they were almost certainly fake. The woman's eyes hardened. "You're in the business already?" she demanded.

Itsuko raised her eyebrows. "Rather a personal question," she murmured. From the corner of her eyes, she saw some of the men in the van start to pay attention.

To her silent relief, the woman backed down at once. "All right, all right," she said sulkily. "Sorry. Only I can do without the competition."

Itsuko nodded, accepting the apology. "I'm in a different area," she said. "I was just curious."

The woman snorted. "Aren't they all," she muttered, and turned back to the crate, sorting through the ornaments. Itsuko watched her for a few moments more, an idea slowly crystallising in her mind. Then, thoughtfully, she moved on.

All around her, the fair hummed with activity. Here was a gathering where you could find anything from heroin to hit-men, buy anything from real Flamish wines, fabulously expensive, to jewellery stolen from the royal palace in Attalantay. And everywhere, if you knew where to look, and if your credentials were good enough, the people who could sell you still more exotic things. Anything at all.

But there was more to it than just buying and selling illegal goods or services. The fairs also served as a haven to those people who, for a thousand different reasons, preferred trade and barter to other, more taxable forms of exchange. They brought a wilder element to the gatherings; in the rougher areas, there would be the gambling dens, the brothel tents and the arenas.

A gathering this large even attracted its own service industry. Here and there she saw stalls and carts selling hot food and drinks, and doing a brisk trade—not always for money.

The interesting thing about the service industry, sometimes, was how well it knew the people it served. She stopped by a little stand that was selling hot roasted nuts and asked the seller quietly if he knew where to find Kuramoto. He gave her cheerful directions, and sold her a bag of roast chestnuts. She tried one as she walked away. It was quite good.

She found Kuramoto after a little searching: a tall, lanky man talking to a group of drug dealers. Itsuko kept her opinions to herself, waited until he was free, and told him that Masami had suggested that he might be able to recommend someone for records work.

Kuramoto thought for a moment. "Cash or trade?" he asked. "You deal in tea, don't you?"

"Darjeeling," she agreed. Government tariffs on imported tea were very high, making it profitable to smuggle in; and she had contacts in India. "I can do either."

She found it interesting—and slightly alarming—that he knew her by sight, and what she dealt in. How, and why? Had Masami warned him somehow? As before, she kept her opinions to herself.

He smiled. "Tea, then." They discussed his referral fee for a minute, and settled on a single case. He waved to another man to help him, and they returned to Itsuko's van, where she unloaded one of the boxes she had packed earlier. Kuramoto lifted the lid, sniffed, and nodded. The nameless assistant carried the case away.

Kuramoto pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled on it. "Talk to Trio," he said. He gave her the card, and directions. "He'll want cash. Probably quite a lot of it."

"Thank you." Itsuko waited as Kuramoto left, made sure the van was locked and the alarm reset, and then headed back into the fairground. Almost immediately, she ran into an old friend.

"Itsuko-chan!" boomed Okuda Jiro, throwing his arms wide. "Kalispera! Ti kanis?"

She stifled a curse. _Not __now_!

She had first met Jiro twenty-two years ago. She had been using the name Ochida Junko back then, running a dojo in the upper levels of the Olympus building…and, then as now, doing a little smuggling on the side. She had befriended Jiro, still a young man at the time, at a fair. Over the next few years she had helped him out when she could, and in time it paid off.

Even at that first meeting, she remembered, she had told him she was half-Greek; already planning, two years ahead, for the day when she would need a new name. Later, when she needed help in turn, Jiro was the one who introduced her to the people who could build her a new identity; could make her into Pappadopoulos Itsuko.

They fell out of touch after that. It was safest that way. But recently, when she'd found that her office in the Olympus was bugged, she had had to call him again—and, inevitably, he had noticed that Itsuko had not aged.

That alone could make him dangerous. But now, coupled with what Setsuna had told her about him…she felt a slow, cold rage begin to burn.

"Jiro-san," she responded coolly.

He looked hurt, but ploughed on. "Sure didn' expect to see you here. Thought you went straight, years back?"

"I still do a little," she said. Her voice remained flat.

Jiro's eyes narrowed. "Somethin' wrong, Itsuko-chan? Anythin' I can do to help?"

"No." Itsuko started to turn away from him; but he put out a hand to stop her. Just as quickly, she struck his arm away.

He stood stock-still, looking at her, weighing the situation. Then, very quietly, he said, "What'd I do, Itsuko-chan? I thought we were friends."

"You?" she snapped. "You've done _everything_!"

"I—?"

"You never told me you were Sankaku," she hissed, keeping her voice low. Even here, that was not a fact to bandy about. "You never told me who I was dealing with, Jiro-san."

"So." His face went suddenly blank; his eyes, alert. "An' so what?" he asked.

"So 'S' Division came to arrest me on Thursday. Conspiracy charges! Working with the Sankaku—me! I was lucky to get away."

"I can help," he said at once. "We got resources; we can get around this. You don' know the whole story, Itsu—"

"Help?" she spat. "I think you've done enough, don't you? I don't need your _help_, Jiro-san. I don't think I need to see you ever again."

Before he could move again, she spun away and left him behind.

She stalked through the crowd mechanically, pushing people out of her away when they did not move fast enough. Her fists were clenched, her teeth set. She had wanted to hit him; the only thing that had stopped her was remembering how bad an idea it was to start a fight at the fair. But oh, how she had wanted to hit him…

She stopped at a cart and bought a cold, sweet drink. Sipping it helped to restore her self-control. As she calmed down, she began to wonder if it had been a good idea to tell him that she knew he was Sankaku. Well, it couldn't be helped now.

With a sigh, she pulled Kuramoto's card from her pocket and glanced at it. 'Trio.' She grimaced, and set out through the fairground again.

- - -

Jiro watched her go, and cursed to himself. This, he had never expected. He knew that the Serries were nervous, but arresting Itsuko seemed excessive. Unless they knew, or suspected, more about her?

That she was Hino Rei, for instance.

It was hard to deal with her, knowing that. Still harder to imagine that she was still smuggling tea, of all things. It made him prone to mistakes; he had almost forgotten to greet her in Greek.

But if she was on the run now, she would have other priorities besides smuggling; she would be trying to disappear. He might lose track of her completely—

Wait. If she was on the run, she had probably come here tonight for new identity papers.

Jiro found a private spot and pulled out his commset. He punched in a number and spoke rapidly.

- - -

Near the rear of the fairground was a truck that matched Kuramoto's description. Itsuko studied it for a moment, noting with interest the cable that led to a satellite dish mounted on the roof. She knocked on the rear door.

It opened, revealing a bleached-blonde woman with a flat-top haircut. "Yes?" she said.

"I'm looking for a man called Trio," Itsuko said.

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Oh? And what makes you think he's here?"

Itsuko passed her the card. "Kuramoto-san sent me."

The woman studied it. "Better," she said. "Your name?"

"Pappadopoulos Itsuko."

"Wait." The woman pulled out a commset and punched a single button, without taking her eyes off Itsuko. "Kuramoto-san?" she said. "Did you send me someone?"

She listened for a few seconds, then nodded and put the commset away. "Come in," she said to Itsuko, and stepped back so Itsuko could climb inside.

The back of the truck was lined with tables holding a bewildering array of equipment: computers, printers, binders, laminators—virtually a mobile printing shop. In one corner Itsuko could see a work area laid out with pens, brushes and inkstones. It was an encouraging sight; she began to think that she might not be wasting her money.

Two men were working at computer terminals: a tall Claver who looked African, and a smaller, rat-faced man who was Japanese like the woman. Itsuko asked quietly, "Which one is—?"

The woman smiled. "I'm Trio. You can talk to me."

"Oh." Itsuko glanced at them again, then back at the woman. "Kuramoto said 'he,'" she said, suddenly suspicious.

"They are also Trio." The smile widened. "There are three of us, of course."

"…Of course." Itsuko felt like an idiot. To hide her discomfort, she pulled out her satchel and opened it. "I need a new fake ID," she said brusquely. "Plus a background upgrade on a different ID."

"Really," the woman drawled. "Well, I expect we can do something about that." She glanced through the papers Itsuko handed her, clearly amused. "Birth certificate, bank accounts, tax records…a full credit history…my, my. And how much detail were you expecting in all this? Enough to take a casual glance, or something a little more…sophisticated?"

"As thorough as you can make it," Itsuko said. "I need to be able to take scrutiny from 'S' Division."

"Ah." The woman's teeth flashed. "How interesting. I trust you're not in a hurry. And I do hope you're feeling rich…because you won't be, by the time we're done."

- - -

She left the truck much later, substantially poorer, with her satchel full of papers.

It had been quite impressive, really, to see Trio at work. They took all the documents she gave them and then spent nearly an hour questioning her, extracting still more information in bewildering detail. All of it went into the computers, and slowly, new documents began to emerge. As they worked they moved around the confined space of the truck, from computer to printer to work desk and back, their efforts perfectly coordinated even though they barely spoke to one other.

Two of them, anyway. The third, the rat-faced man, was apparently working on some other project; he stayed out of the way at a single computer, his eyes glued to the screen, working as if driven. Twice as Itsuko waited, people she did not recognise entered the truck and spoke to him. One of them passed him a single sheet of paper; the other, a data wand. Each time, it seemed to spur him to more furious effort. Itsuko wanted to ask the other Trio members what he was working on. She kept her mouth shut.

The other two did not seem to need him, in any case. The bundle of papers they gave her an hour and a half later looked impressively official, and more importantly, impressively real—right down to the aged paper in the birth certificates and the hanko stamps. The woman—Itsuko never learned her name—advised her to wait a week or so before using some of the documents, to give the details time to propagate through a network of government databases. Itsuko nodded wisely and tried to pretend she knew what the woman was talking about.

Now, outside once more, she stood blinking in the darkness for a minute or two as she let her eyes readjust. It was nearly three o'clock, and the noise level of the fair had dropped a notch or two. The hustle and bustle was not over, not yet, but the activity was definitely beginning to ebb.

Just a couple more things to do, and then she could go home and get some sleep. She yawned, shifted the satchel to her other arm, and set out through the thinning crowd.

Almost immediately, she came to a stop as a hand touched her elbow. "Pappadopoulos-san?" a voice murmured. "I wonder if I might have a word."

Not Jiro's voice. She tried to shrug the hand off and step away, but the voice added, "Or would you rather I called you Hino-san?"

She froze.

Slowly, she turned to face her assailant. She recognised him, all too well. Tall and blond, with a prominent chin…and an 'S' Division agent. He had tried to stop her from escaping, two days before, in the car-park of the Olympus building.

She said, "Get away from me, right now."

"Now, now," he said mildly. "There's no need for unpleasantness. All I want is a quiet chat."

"Get _away_! If I raise my voice—"

He let go of her and stepped a careful few centimetres back. "I wouldn't be rash, if I were you," he told her. "Shouting won't help. They know me here."

"They know—?" She stared at him. Then she hissed, "Do they know you're 'S' Division? If I mention that, you'll be dead in a second."

He said, "And if I tell them who _you_ really are?"

Itsuko was silent.

"It seems we both have something to lose," he remarked.

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"I already said: just a quiet, polite little chat. No strings attached. Is that so much to ask for?"

She studied him for a moment, her teeth clenched. "Say what you have to say."

He nodded in approval, with a self-satisfied confidence that made her want to punch him. "I'm guessing that you came here for papers," he said. "New identities for you and the girl, and so forth. I assume the Hayashi girl is, er, one of you? Well, never mind. You made an excellent choice, talking to Trio. They're very, very good. We always have trouble trying to break their work—it takes us days, sometimes."

Itsuko glared at him.

"Really, now," he said. "Wouldn't it be better if you didn't have to go through all of this?"

"Then get off my back!" she said. "I am not a member of the Sankaku. I am not working with the Sankaku."

"Oh? Prove it."

"_How_?"

He smiled. "Come with me now. Turn yourself in."

Itsuko snorted.

"No, hear me out," he insisted. "It really is your best choice, you know. Look…you think we _want_ to keep hounding you? _You_, of all people? Hell, of course we know the evidence is circumstantial! We're not trying to persecute you for fun. If you're innocent, you'll get the chance to prove it."

"If you're so damn sure the evidence is circumstantial," she said angrily, "why couldn't you investigate it first? Why are you hounding me now?"

"Because the Sankaku are involved," he said. "That makes it a National Security matter." He shook his head. "Unfortunately, it also makes our options a good deal more limited."

He was sincere, Itsuko realised. That was unexpected. She was silent for a minute, considering what he had said. At last, cautiously, she asked, "And if I decline your…kind offer?"

The lightness dropped from his tone. "Then all bets are off. This case has gone all the way to the top, and the orders are clear. They want you, Hino-san—"

"Don't call me that," she said automatically.

"—Pappadopoulos-san, then. They want you, and they'll have you. If you don't turn yourself in, the kid gloves come off. I don't care what papers Trio gave you; we will find you and we will take you. And after that…even if you do turn out to be innocent, you can't expect your identity to remain secret by the time the investigation's over.

"Please—" He was almost pleading now. "Make it easy on yourself."

Again she was silent, thinking it over. He was probably telling the truth, and in spite of herself, she was almost tempted. But…"I can't, don't you see?" she said. "You know what's happening at the moment. The crystal creatures, the vitrimorphs. The attacks. I'm a part of it. I have a responsibility."

Very gently, he said, "Do you? But you're not a Senshi any more, are you?"

She could not restrain a shudder. "That doesn't matter. I was there; I saw this all begin. I need to—to be sure…"

"You were there," he repeated, almost under his breath. She saw him hesitate. Then, in a rush, he said, "There's so much you could tell us. What _happened_? Who destroyed Crystal Tokyo, and why? And why—why can't you become Sailor Mars any more?"

The question was so unexpected—and so personal, and so completely honest—that she almost laughed. "As to that," she began, then broke off. "See here, what _is_ your name, anyway?"

He blinked. "Aoiro. Captain Aoiro Takechi."

"Well, then, Captain Aoiro Takechi, as to that…" She waved one finger at him. "That is a secret."

He didn't get the joke, of course; he just looked puzzled, and disappointed.

"Never mind." Itsuko sighed. "Look—give me a little time, all right? Two or three days. I…need to think about all this." He looked unhappy, but she overrode the protest he was about to make. "I suppose I know where to find you, if I…decide to work with you."

He studied her for a few heartbeats longer, and then bowed his head in resignation. "All right," he said. "Just…do the sensible thing."

"We'll see," she replied. She was about to leave, but then turned back at a sudden thought. "What are you _doing_ here, anyway? How did you find out about the fair?"

Aoiro looked surprised. Then he laughed out loud. "Please," he said. "Do you really think 'S' Division are that useless? Credit us with some competence. We've known about the fairs for years. We keep our hands off, usually, because it's handy to keep the black market where you can find it; but there are always a few agents about, keeping an eye on things."

She stared at him, chastened. "Oh."

"The fair officials know that we know, of course. And they keep quiet about it, for the same reason we do." He gave her a quick look. "The _really_ dangerous types never come here. They know better."

"But you keep watch anyway."

"Of course.—Well, not me personally. I got called in when you were seen here tonight. Actually, it was quite a surprise to us. We didn't have a record of you as a dealer at all."

"I suppose," she said, "that I should take comfort in that." She scowled. "If nothing else."

- - -

After they parted, Itsuko watched him go carefully, nervous that he might try to follow her. Then she realised how foolish she was being. Aoiro had just told her that there were other agents around. They could be anyone at all. The man who'd sold her chestnuts; the woman walking past with an armful of thin metal rods…even one of the members of Trio. Or all of them.

She snorted. Paranoia was the last thing she needed now. Shaking her head, she went on her way. Just a little more to do, and then she could finally go home.

She found the men who had asked her if she'd brought any trading goods earlier, and sold the rest of her tea to them. It didn't bring in a lot, but after the amount she'd paid to Trio, every little helped.

And last, she went hunting and found the young woman she'd talked to earlier, with her box of fake ornaments and, obviously, little idea what to do with them.

She found her, rummaging through the crate dejectedly. The level didn't seem to have dropped much and Itsuko thought that she probably hadn't sold anything at all.

The woman looked up as she approached. "You again," she said. "Come back to laugh?"

Itsuko shook her head. She studied the woman for a few seconds, and decided that she liked what she saw. "No offence, but…you're kind of new at this, aren't you?" she said quietly.

There was a sudden wariness in the woman's eyes, quickly hidden. "What if I am?" she demanded. "What's it to you?"

Itsuko carefully did not smile. _A new start,_ she thought. _A way forward._

A chance to begin again. Someone who didn't know her as Itsuko, and so wouldn't expect her to look older than she did. Someone relatively innocent, who could easily be bluffed when Itsuko suddenly became Seki. And, best of all, someone who already knew the fairs.

After all, knowing what she knew now, it would be a long time before Itsuko dared come back here.

"Oh, nothing," she said aloud. "It's just that…well, I've been around a little, but I'm kind of at a loose end at the moment. So I was just wondering…"

She smiled at the woman. "Could you use a partner?"

- - -

Aoiro checked the time and decided, with malice aforethought, to call Captain Hiiro anyway. Hiiro's voice was suitably groggy, but he woke up quickly when Aoiro briefed him on what had happened.

"She's been to see Trio?" Hiiro repeated. "Damn."

"Yeah. I said we can break whatever they gave her."

"That'll be the day. If we could break their work, we'd've had the evidence to arrest them years ago."

"I know. I wanted her nervous."

"Okay." Hiiro was silent for a few seconds. "You think she'll take your offer? Call you back?"

"Not a chance," Aoiro said regretfully. "She asked for a few days to think it over. You know what that means."

"Hell, I taught _you_ that. She wants time to get clear." Hiiro breathed heavily into the commset. "Okay. We take the other route, then. At least now we know."

- - -

And then, finally, home. An hour's drive back to Lake Tega to switch vehicles, and then back to Third Tokyo by car. Itsuko had to drive slowly; she could barely keep her eyes open.

She reached the house a little after five in the morning. The sun was already up; the birds were singing. She groaned, draped a heavy blanket over her bedroom window, and crawled into bed.

She could not sleep. Her mind was too busy. Pondering Aoiro's veiled threats. Worrying about how trustworthy her new papers would be. Remembering Jiro, and the bridges she had burned when she walked away from him. Trying to decide how long she had before Aoiro gave up waiting to hear from her.

She tossed and turned restlessly. The room was stuffy and hot. Kami, she was so tired.

She remembered the woman with her crate of ornaments, Gensai Eri. She had been understandably sceptical of Itsuko's sudden suggestion; but by the time Itsuko had finished laying out her offer, she was enthusiastic. It smacked of naïveté, but Itsuko would help cure her of that.

But there was still so much to do; so much to plan; and always, so little time to do it all. If only she had a chance to stop and catch her breath; if only the world would stop moving for just a little; if only she could sleep…

And then, unbelievably, she heard Miyo start to bustle about in the kitchen, making breakfast. She looked at the clock and bit her pillow in an effort not to scream.

When Miyo burst into her room, carrying a steaming tray and bidding her a cheerful good morning, she managed to smile.

* * *

Saturday afternoon was as hot and still as Friday had been. August would be hotter still; but even now, Third Tokyo baked under a blazing sun. Within the little aerodrome a few kilometres out of the city, the wall thermometer hovered just below 30 degrees Celsius. Outside, it was several degrees higher.

Suzue ignored the heat as she walked from the flight-club rooms into the main building. She was feeling very pleased with herself. Another sixty minutes in her flight log book today; and the instructor had told her that with a further three hours or so, she would be ready to solo. She hummed to herself, a faint smile on her face.

A glance up at the clock showed that she had ten minutes before the next train left for the city. She felt the little purse in her pocket, and went over to a nearby vending machine for a cold drink. When she turned around again, she jumped. Minoru and Keiko were standing right in front of her, grinning.

"Minoru-kun…Keiko-chan," she said, startled. "What are you doing here?" Her boyfriend and her best friend from school were the last faces she had expected here.

"There, you see?" said Keiko, looking up at Minoru. "I _said_ she'd be pleased to see us."

Suzue gave her a mildly exasperated look. "Well, of course I'm glad to see you," she said. "I just never thought—"

"She's winding you up," Minoru told her. "Actually, we've been here for a while. I wanted to see you actually flying…and Keiko-chan invited herself along when I said I was going."

"Well, I've never been in an airplane," said Keiko, rather defensively. "Is that thing really safe, Suzue-chan? It looked awfully flimsy."

"Of course it's—well, I suppose it's not _totally_ safe," Suzue admitted. "But Ashida-san is a very good instructor, and she says I'm doing well."

"Oh…if you say so." Keiko looked out the window dubiously as another two-seater plane taxied out to the runway. "I just don't see the attraction in it."

"When you've seen the view from up there, Keiko-chan…the whole world, spread out underneath you…" For a moment Suzue's eyes were far away, seeing distant horizons. "Then you'll understand. There's nothing like it."

Keiko let out a squawk. "You expect _me_ to go up in one of those tiny things? I wouldn't dare!"

"Your loss," said Minoru cheerfully. "Personally, I have a date in the air with Suzue-chan…as soon as she gets her license."

"That won't be for a while yet, of course," Suzue warned.

He winked at her. "Who did the landing today? The instructor, or you?"

"Oh…I did." Suzue tried to look modest. Admittedly she had bounced the airplane a couple of times, but she was improving at that. Last week's lesson had been little but landings.

She finished her drink and tossed the cup into a bin, and the three of them headed out to the railway platform, chatting amiably. The surprise of the moment aside, Suzue was touched that her friends had come. The afternoon had already been good. Now it was better.

The train hissed into the station, on time, three minutes later. They took seats in an almost-empty carriage. As the train pulled out again, Keiko said, "Hey, Suzue-chan, I never asked. Where did you have to go in such a hurry, after school on Thursday? You ran off without saying a word."

Suzue thought before she spoke. She had gone to the warehouse to meet Miyo and the others, of course. "I had to see someone," she said calmly. "A friend I met recently. She needed to talk about some things."

"Oh?" said Minoru. "Anyone I know?"

"I shouldn't think so," Suzue answered. She thought about some of the things Miyo had said that afternoon, after the bombshell about her name, and added, "Though you could meet her soon. I understand she may be transferring into our school."

* * *

The day passed. Miyo spent Saturday afternoon cleaning the windows of her new house—it was impossible yet to think of it as "home"—and scrubbing down the rear porch. By the time she had finished, she had scraped off a fair bit of flaking old paint as well, but the porch still looked a hundred times better.

Afterward, she ventured into the garden. The rear of the property was large, and it was filled with a tangled web of overgrown bushes and plants that looked, at first sight, like a solid mass of greenery. The few patches of lawn that were still visible were nearly knee-high. She spent an hour or two trying to bring a little order to the garden, but it quickly became clear that she was not going to finish soon. It was going to take her weeks—perhaps months—to do a proper job. She looked forward to it with relish.

She tried to imagine how much a property this size would have cost back in the 21st century, and winced. More than fifty million yen, probably. Even now, it would be expensive. How long had Itsuko owned it?

Now and then, as she worked, she could not help glancing up at the roof of the house. A pair of crows were perched on the tiles, watching her. They had been hanging around ever since she and Itsuko had moved in. Itsuko called them Deimos and Phobos…and they seemed to know her, and were utterly unafraid when she threw them scraps of food. Miyo had even seen one of them fly down to perch on Itsuko's hand for a moment.

They bothered her. There had been a pair of crows at the shrine in Crystal Tokyo, too, though she did not know if Rei had ever named them. Was it just a tradition…or something more? The whole idea, the sense that something small but uncanny was happening around her, was troubling. She found herself wondering if Rei had had birds back in the Silver Millennium…and if so, what kind they had been. She could have remembered if she had wanted; the hole Artemis had opened into her memory was still there. But she shied away from the attempt.

Best not to think about it at all, perhaps.

Thinking of Itsuko brought another troubling memory, anyway. The woman had gone somewhere, last night, and would not say where. Miyo had gotten up to use the bathroom at three o'clock, and Itsuko's bed had still been empty. Where had she been, and why? Above all, why wouldn't she talk about it? Did it have something to do with her cryptic comment about identity papers? Why wouldn't she just _say_?

Miyo had thought they were friends again, but they were going to have to have another talk about trust. After everything else that had happened, this new secrecy was intolerable.

That, of course, brought her to the big problem that she was trying not to think about: namely, everything else that had happened. Yet again, she had been uprooted and thrown into a new, unwanted life. On top of what her family had done to her, it might almost have seemed a bit much.

To tell the truth, though, this new change wasn't actually all that bad. She looked around the garden again, and thought that it even had its redeeming features. Having to run had been a horrible shock at first, yes, but not nearly as much as when her father threw her out.

That one still hurt, but the pain was beginning to fade at last. She no longer thought about it every day; about the family she had had. One might say that she was getting used to losing families—a horrible, bitter thought. Except that it was not quite true. There was one family that she had never lost; one which had been with her in three lifetimes now. And if the members of that new, extended family were not actually blood relatives, or even all human, still they were no less precious. She thought of that, from time to time, and tried to draw comfort from it. Sometimes it helped.

She mopped her brow, and paused to look down at the hand that had done it, and at the new, golden colour of her skin. No, this new change was not all bad. Looked at in the right way, it could be seen as an adventure—even romantic, as Beth had said. In other ways, it was not too different from moving house. True, the house was old and rundown; but once she and Itsuko had finished, she thought it would be quite nice. There was a new neighbourhood to learn, and a new school; but not everyone at school would be a stranger. It had been a pleasant surprise to realise that she and Suzue would be schoolmates. She looked forward to learning more about the girl.

No, the biggest problem—she looked down at her hand again—was having to change her appearance, and even her name. She had been pretty upset about that for a while. She and Itsuko had had quite a shouting match on the subject, on Thursday afternoon. It was still a shock every time she looked in the mirror, or when she heard Itsuko's voice and looked up to see a stranger.

She was upset about it, yes, but she could see that it was no better for Itsuko. The woman stumbled over names and jumped at mirrors just as often as Miyo did…though she could not help thinking that Itsuko really ought to be used to doing this by now. Itsuko had lost as much as Miyo had—Miyo knew that losing the Olympus building had been a blow to her—and she had the additional worry of needing to find a way to support the two of them. But she never complained. Her lips would tighten and her jaw clench, and Miyo knew that she wanted to shout or break something; but instead she just buckled down and got on with it. Perhaps that was the result of experience. Perhaps it was simply maturity.

Either way, having Itsuko around made the whole thing more bearable. Maybe it was because misery loved company. Or maybe it was because both of them were fighters.

Well, if this was a new battle, Miyo had decided that she was not going to lose. And it did have its compensations.

She paused again to relax her aching back, and glanced at her watch. The shadows were lengthening; it was getting late. Time to think about eating. She picked up her garden tools and went inside to wash up and start on dinner.

- - -

The evening passed quietly. They did not have a viddy set yet, and there were only a few books in the house. Miyo thought about going out and meeting Dhiti somewhere, but she did not really feel like it. It would have seemed awkward, with the way she looked now: like being a stranger at a party. Instead, she lay on her bed and chatted with Dhiti over her Senshi communicator, and almost managed to feel as if nothing were different.

Itsuko, for her part, spent the evening brooding. Thankfully, she had managed to get a little sleep during the day. However, a clearer head also brought a clearer understanding of what she had to do. Her meeting with Captain Aoiro had probably bought her a little time, but it was impossible to tell how much. She suspected that he had lied to her about how easy her new papers would be to trace—but if he had lied about that, he could have been lying about everything. The grace period before they started hunting her again might be vanishingly small.

If she were to do what she was contemplating, it would have to be tonight.

- - -

Miyo turned in early. She lay in bed for a long time, tired but still too unfamiliar with her new bed to be comfortable in it. At last she dropped off, and dreamed that she and Chiba Mamoru were dancing a slow waltz under a velvet-black sky. He handed her a flower, and she knew it would be a rose; but instead it turned out to be a camellia, and then he waved his hand and it turned into a lily and—

She woke up.

All her senses were on alert. Something had woken her, but what? A faint noise, like the closing of a door. She lay in bed, face buried in her pillow, and listened. The house was silent. She held her breath—twenty, forty heartbeats—but heard nothing. She was just beginning to relax again when, faint and distant, a sound came. The electric whine of a car engine starting up.

She sat up and touched the stud on her communicator-watch. It lit up to show her the time: nearly half past one. Far off, the engine sound rose and then faded away.

She got out of bed and padded through to Itsuko's room. The bed was empty.

_Damn it, __again_?! she thought angrily. Where was Itsuko going _this_ time? All the secrecy, trying to slip out without being noticed…Miyo was being treated like a little child, and it rankled. She stared at the bed, fists clenched, and then turned away with a silent curse.

She stomped back to her room, still grumbling to herself, and sat down on the bed. Then, still too annoyed to think about sleeping again, she got back up and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

When she turned on the light, she saw a note fixed to the refrigerator.

__

Mako-chan—if you read this, don't worry. I have to go out for a while. I'll be back in an hour or so.

Seki.

Underneath, in a faster, sloppier hand, was added:

__

If I'm not back by morning, do what you have to do. I trust you.

Miyo read it over three times, growing more alarmed each time. What was Itsuko doing? The first part was surely meant to be reassuring; but the postscript was different. It almost read as if Itsuko expected—

Suddenly galvanised, Miyo raced back to her bedroom.

- - -

The sound of her communicator woke Dhiti. She jerked upright in a panic, then fumbled around for several seconds before she found the device.

"Hello!" she whispered into it frantically. "Yes! I'm awake! Who is it?" Across the room, dimly, she saw Artemis on his feet, staring at her in alarm.

"Dhiti-chan?" It was Miyo's voice. "I need your help."

"What, at this hour?" Dhiti looked across at the illuminated figures on her clock and cringed. "Hayashi, what's wrong?"

"I don't know yet. Can you meet me outside?"

"Uh…all right. Outside where?"

"Outside your house. I'm waiting for you now."

Dhiti turned off her communicator, said a few choice things about Miyo under her breath, and got up. (Artemis turned away hastily. At this time of year, Dhiti did not wear anything in bed.) She reached for her clothes drawer…and then thought again, and produced her henshin wand instead.

Moments later, Sailor Mercury slid the window open and dropped silently to the ground outside. A white cat followed her.

As she had expected, it was Sailor Jupiter, not Miyo, who waited for her by the front gate. "Hayashi," she said in a low voice. "What is it? Another vitrimorph attack?"

"No," said Jupiter. "At least, I hope not. But—" She explained the situation hastily.

Mercury listened, frowning. When Jupiter had finished, she said, "Uh…you don't think you might be overreacting? I mean, it sounds a little odd, but—"

"You didn't read that note, Dhiti-chan. 'If I'm not back by morning, do what you have to do.' Does that sound like she's just gone to get some fresh air?"

"It sounds worrying, yes," put in Artemis, "but it may not be as bad as you think. Miyo, you must know that Itsuko has other…contacts in the city. Illicit ones. She could easily be seeing one of them."

Illicit contacts? That was news to Dhiti, and deliciously tantalising; but she put it aside for now and said, "Face it, Hayashi, you don't know _where_ she's gone."

"No, but you might," argued Jupiter. "Don't you remember? Artemis gave her a communicator. You might be able to track it with your computer!"

"God, Hayashi, you're making it sound all cloak-and-dagger. Why not just call her? If she's got a communicator, you can _ask_ her what's going on."

"No! Don't you see? If she's doing something dangerous, having her communicator go off could give her away!"

Mercury stared at her, wondering if Jupiter had any idea how she sounded. "What do you think she's doing, for heaven's sake? Meeting Sankaku agents, or raising a revolutionary army? Come on! There's got to be a more reasonable explanation for—" She saw the other girl's expression, and sighed. Hayashi was really upset. "Oh…all right."

She pulled out her computer and flipped it open. "Let's see…" She started to type rapidly, bringing up a series of tracking displays. Information raced past on her visor. She didn't much like computers, but they weren't that hard once you knew what you were doing.

"You're getting good at that," remarked Artemis.

She looked over to where he sat on the fence. "Well, I _have_ been practising," she said smugly. "You told me to, remember?"

"Just get on with it!" said Jupiter.

"Patience, Hayashi, or I'll tell Suzue-chan about the slugs. Just give me a moment…" Her computer beeped, and she grinned. "Got her! Not that far away from here, either." Fingers flew, and she brought up a map display. "Huh. I should have thought of that. She's at the Olympus. Now why would she…"

Abruptly, she realised what she was saying. She stared at Jupiter and Artemis, her eyes wide. "She must be out of her mind," she said.

They stared back, equally aghast. Artemis said, "The one place she _knows_ they're watching, and she's headed straight into the lion's mouth!"

"Oh, _no_. I've got to—" Jupiter whirled, and sprinted away into the night.

Mercury flipped her computer closed and thought quickly. "I'm going after her," she told the cat. "Artemis, call the others. Tell them to meet us there—and fast."

Then she, too, was gone.

- - -

From across the street, Itsuko stared at the Olympus building. She was tense, nervous. Now that she was actually here, looking at her former home, the difficulty of her task seemed magnified enormously.

It had seemed so easy, before she left: go in, fill a firepot from the sacred fire, and get out again before 'S' Division could arrive. The little secret room beside her office should still be safe. If she was quick enough, there would be no danger.

Well, not much danger, anyway. But she would risk far more than this to retrieve the sacred fire.

(For a moment, the dead face of Genichi swam in her memory, and the wreckage of the Hikawa shrine. _Never again_.)

She kept on watching. The gymnasium stayed open all night, but at this hour it had few customers. She could see lights in the second floor windows, and once a figure walking past. Around her, the streets were nearly empty; a few cars per minute, no more. None of them stopped.

…The real trouble was, she knew that 'S' Division was monitoring the building. She herself had seen the security cameras being put in place, weeks before. Even her private staircase down to the car park was no longer a secret, since she'd used it to escape two days before.

How to get in?

She had considered going ahead and using the private staircase anyway. She had even toyed with wilder ideas: climbing up to the roof, for example, and letting herself down on a rope, or through the elevator shaft. Romantically tempting, but ridiculously impractical, even if she could get to the roof at all. Or she could go up the fire escape and in through her office window—right under the view of the cameras. That was no improvement.

In the end, simplest was best. Speed would be her friend. In and out like a flash, without stopping, and she would be gone before they could arrive. They would never have a chance to touch her.

And she was wasting time. She took a deep breath, jogged across the street, and in through the main entrance of the building.

_Okay. Assume they've seen me. Clock's ticking._

The staircase was just inside the entryway, on the right. She ran up four flights, emerging on the third floor. No one was in sight. She turned left, following the corridor around to her office door. Still nobody.

The door was unlocked. She opened it and looked around quickly…and froze, staring in dismay. The office was in ruins, its contents strewn everywhere. She stood for a minute, gazing at the waste of her career.

Then, brutally, she forced herself to move. Ruins or not, she had a job to do and no time to lose. She went in, closing the door behind her, and walked across the office in the dark.

The hidden contacts in the wall moved easily under her touch, and the secret door clicked open. Itsuko stepped through gingerly.

Firelight glowed in her face, and she almost fainted with relief.

She moved forward and bowed reverently to the fire. The flames seemed to wave in reply. Then she turned away. A low shelf nearby held what she needed; she picked up an insulated firepot, and started to turn back to the fire—

A soft movement came from behind her. A voice said, "I think that's about enough."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and knew that she had lost.

Looking around, she saw the man who had tried to arrest her two days before: Hiiro. His face was covered with barely healed scratches from Artemis' claws and teeth. Red light reflected in his eyes.

She let the firepot fall to the floor. It struck with a dull clatter and rolled away without breaking.

Another man emerged from the shadows at the rear of the secret room: Captain Aoiro. "I told you to credit us with a little competence," he told her sadly. "The door wasn't even hidden all that well."

"Quiet," Hiiro said, and Aoiro fell silent at once. Hiiro went on, "Hino-san, do we need to go through the formalities? You are under arrest, on charges of forgery, tax fraud and criminal conspiracy against the government of Japan. And resisting arrest. Other charges may be laid later. Do you have anything to say?"

She shook her head, mute.

"All right then." He gestured, and she held out her hands. Hiiro produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere. He snapped one cuff over her left wrist, and was just bringing the other cuff down—

Itsuko dropped to the floor, yanking herself free from his grasp. In the same motion, she launched herself backward, out through the door and into her office. She heard a confused shout from Aoiro. She stumbled to her feet, skidding on a loose sheet of paper, and lurched toward the exit.

The office lights flicked on. She winced at the sudden light, and then froze at the sight of the man standing between her and the door. The burly, unshaven man who had been with Hiiro on Thursday; she had never heard his name.

Behind her, Hiiro said quietly, "I told you, that's enough."

_I'm sorry,_ Itsuko thought in a sudden burst of grief. _Makoto-chan, Setsuna-chan…Genichi-san…I've failed. I'm sorry…_

Aoiro took her by the arms, holding her firmly. She felt a hand on her wrist, and waited for Hiiro to put the other cuff on her.

A voice from the window said, "Let her go."

- - -

Sailor Jupiter stepped in through the window and halted by Itsuko's desk, facing the three men. A spark of fury was in her eyes, and a grim, determined look on her face that told them she was ready for battle. Her fists were clenched, and a pearly, electric glow seemed to cling about them.

"I said, let her go," she repeated.

Captain Hiiro hesitated. Itsuko saw him swallow, and wondered what was running through his head. Was he afraid? But when he spoke, his voice did not waver.

He said, "Ma'am, I am conducting a legal arrest of a wanted criminal. You are interfering with government business. Please leave, and let us do our jobs."

Jupiter's expression did not change at all. She said, "Last chance. Let her go or I'll fry you."

The nimbus of light about her fists seemed to gather and brighten.

Hiiro took one step back, and for one moment of incredulous hope Itsuko thought he was going to obey. Then he said, quietly, "Mitsukai. Now."

A figure exploded from under the desk, just behind Jupiter: a woman, wiry and thin. Before Jupiter could react, she lunged up and clapped a fist-sized object to Jupiter's neck. Instantly, a metal band snapped closed around the senshi's throat.

Jupiter convulsed. A short bark of a scream burst from her lips. There was a loud crackle, and the metal rod on her tiara flared with a wild burst of light. Electric sparks danced around it, arcing to the desk nearby. With a cry of pain, Mitsukai was flung away from her. Jupiter staggered backward, and screamed again.

More bolts of electricity flew, filling the air with the sharp smell of ozone. A bundle of papers on the floor caught fire. She spasmed, again and again, unable to control her body. Then one final burst of light came from her, so brilliant that they had to shield their eyes. As it faded, she wobbled and slumped to the floor, face-down, unconscious.

A moment later she shimmered and became an ordinary teenage girl, dressed in rather scanty pyjamas.

"Miyo-chan!" Itsuko shouted. She struggled in Aoiro's arms, in vain.

"Son of a bitch," Kuroi muttered. "It actually worked."

Gingerly, Mitsukai stood back up, looking pale and shaken. She started toward the fallen girl, favouring one leg, until Hiiro waved her back. Instead she leaned back against the wall, her face pale. Stray wisps of hair clung to her face as if electrified, and she brushed them back.

Hiiro knelt down at the unconscious girl's side and flipped her over onto her back. "I don't know her," he said. "No, wait. Yes, I do. Hayashi Miyo, I believe?"

"You bastard!" Itsuko snarled.

He only shook his head wearily. "If 'M' Division can outfit an Opal to track Senshi powers, it's only a short step further to work out how to block those powers," he said. As he spoke, he unfastened the device from Miyo's neck. "This unit is a prototype, but I dare say we can make more, now that we know it works."

He glanced up at Itsuko and added, "She's alive, by the way. And you needn't worry; I have no orders to arrest Sailor Jupiter. She's welcome to blow up all the crystal monsters she wants."

He left Miyo lying on the floor, kicked the burning papers away from her, and said to Itsuko, "You, on the other hand, are coming with us."

He turned away from her and tossed the device back to Mitsukai, who caught it deftly. To Kuroi he went on, "Ryozo, call Kitada. Tell him to bring the van round to the front of the building. You and I will—"

There was a sudden, thunderous knock at the door.

"Shit." Hiiro gestured quickly to Aoiro and Kuroi, and they fanned out to either side of the door. "What now?" he demanded to Itsuko. "More of your friends?

Before she could answer, the door shuddered under another blow. Then, with a roar, it burst open. The frosted glass pane exploded; splinters of wood flew from the shattered latch. The door struck the wall violently, mere centimetres away from where Aoiro was crouching, and hung loosely on broken hinges.

Kuroi swore violently.

As the last fragments of glass hit the floor, four men walked in. They were tall and bulky, dressed in drab, cheap-looking clothing. They moved ponderously, almost clumsily. But what chilled Itsuko, as she saw them, was the flat, empty look in their faces. A dead look.

Hiiro came forward to meet them. There was no uncertainly or apprehension in his face: just a cool, assured calm. "Can I help you?" he asked.

The leader approached him, pulled out a card, and held it out in one big, ungainly hand. Hiiro took it and read it.

"Government ID. For the…the 'Technical Enforcement Network'?" He looked up at the stranger, one eyebrow raised. "What, is this a joke? I've never heard of that outfit—"

He broke off. His eyes moved to one of the other newcomers.

The man had been looking around slowly, his head turning from side to side as if searching for something. Now, suddenly, he moved, stepping toward Mitsukai. The woman's eyes widened a fraction, but she held her ground. For a moment the two of them stood face-to-face. Then, shockingly quick, the man's hand flashed out. She tried to defend herself, but too slowly. There was a sickening crack, and then he moved back, holding the device she had been carrying.

She cried out and clutched her arm, which was bent at an unnatural angle. Kuroi cursed and started toward the two—only to stop short at what happened next.

The man looked blankly down at the device he had taken. Then, slowly, he closed his grip on it. The metal case buckled and collapsed in his fist; they could all hear the crunching and tinkling of delicate components. His expression never changed. Then the unit dropped to the floor, a useless, twisted piece of junk.

Itsuko started to have a very bad feeling about this.

Quietly, Hiiro said to the newcomers' leader, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but—"

"Captain," interrupted Aoiro, his voice thin and strained. "Captain, I don't know what this is about, but I recognise one of these men." He let go of Itsuko with one hand, to point at one of the four newcomers. "That one. He's Morimoto Eiji, a career criminal…and he's supposed to be in jail right now, serving a nine-year sentence."

Hiiro stood motionless for a moment, his eyes never leaving the leader. He said, "Explain."

The leader stirred. In a voice as flat and dead as his face, he said, "You will release the woman into our custody."

Hiiro laughed. "Will I hell."

"You have your orders. Our authority exceeds yours. You will release the woman into our custody."

The impasse lasted another moment. Then, calmly and deliberately, Hiiro reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. He levelled it at the leader's face. In the rear of the room, Aoiro and Kuroi followed suit.

"I don't think so," said Hiiro softly.

And another voice said, "That's right. She isn't going anywhere with either of you."

- - -

One by one, four more Senshi entered the room: Venus and Uranus through the window, and Mercury and Mars through the shattered door. As she came in, Sailor Mercury exclaimed in dismay and ran to the fallen Miyo's side. The others stayed back, observing the confrontation taking place. Their faces were stern and implacable, their eyes fierce.

Even Mars, Itsuko thought; even Mars. The timid girl looked as resolute as the others. She felt a sudden blaze of pride in all of them.

The four exchanged glances. Then Sailor Venus stepped forward and said, "I don't pretend to know what's going on here. But you're holding one of our own, and we can't allow that. Release Pappadopoulos Itsuko, and we'll leave you be. But if you threaten her, then in the name of the planet Venus—"

Sailor Uranus stepped to her side. "And Uranus—"

Mars joined them. "And Mars—"

Sailor Mercury rose to her feet again. "And Mercury," she said, her voice cold.

"—We will defend her!"

The oath dropped like a pebble into a suddenly silent room. For a brief second, nobody moved. Hiiro's eyes were very wide. Itsuko felt as if her heart were going to burst.

Then, as one, the four men threw their heads back and started to laugh. They did it in eerie, perfect unison; even their mocking guffaws were synchronised.

At the same time, they started to change.

Their face stretched, distorted; their bodies swelled grotesquely. The drab clothes they wore split and fell away, revealing flesh that seemed translucent, almost faceted. Their limbs became monstrous, club-like things. Within seconds they had become gigantic mockeries of men, towering over the others, their heads almost touching the ceiling.

Still they laughed.

Sailor Uranus responded first. She ducked to one side, lifted her hands, and started to shout: "MUSIC OF THE—"

In the instant she began to move, the laughter stopped. The vitrimorph she was aiming at moved with unexpected speed, spinning away from her. The floor groaned under its weight. As it came to a halt once more, it swung one giant fist…and struck Captain Aoiro on the shoulder, clubbing him casually away from Itsuko as if he were weightless. He smashed into the filing cabinets with a cry of pain.

Uranus shifted to try and track it. Before she was in place, the vitrimorph reached out—and its hand closed around Itsuko's head.

Itsuko felt cold crystal against her skin, and gasped. There was enough of a gap between the massive fingers for her to see what was happening, but she did not dare move. The grip was gentle…for now.

The vitrimorph turned its eyes back toward Uranus, who stood frozen in mid-attack. In an ugly, gloating voice it said, "Think you can shoot fast enough?"

The four began to laugh again.

Uranus stared at it, irresolute.

And in that instant, the lights went out.

The room was plunged into darkness. Even the corridor beyond the office door was black. Only a dim band of red-gold across the floor remained, coming through the open door from the sacred fire. For a second, they all froze in shock. The moment seemed to stretch, as if the whole room held its breath.

Then, in an instant, all became chaos. "What the hell—?" someone shouted. There were more shouts in answer. Footsteps. A loud crash as someone knocked something over. Itsuko felt the grip on her head tighten convulsively, and she screamed in pain. The fingers relaxed a little.

There was a light coming from somewhere: a dim glow, pearly white, faint but growing.

More shouts; more footsteps. "Find the goddamn switch!" The floor shook as a vitrimorph took one heavy step. A girl's voice, shouting a warning. There were three sets of mutual enemies in this room, and they were beginning to panic. When they did, Itsuko knew that she would be the first to suffer.

The pale glow was getting brighter. Where was it coming from…?

Then a strange noise, like a faint chiming. All other sound seemed to fade away, and in the growing light, they all saw it happen: a small, delicate object flew across the room and embedded itself, deadly accurate, in the eye of one of the vitrimorphs. The monster staggered back, and they saw the missile clearly.

A rose.

Another object followed it. A discus of energy, shining a brilliant gold, it traced a lambent curve through the air that touched the arm of the vitrimorph holding Itsuko…and, with a sharp crack, cut straight through it. The fingers on Itsuko's face tightened once more, then loosened forever. With a heavy thud, the arm and hand struck the floor. The wounded vitrimorph gave a strange, almost animal cry.

The disc arced around in the direction it had come: back to the other door in the office, the one that led into Itsuko's apartment. A hand rose up to catch it. As it came to a halt, the disc's golden radiance winked out, and it became…something else. Delicately, the catcher lifted it up and replaced it on her forehead.

Two figures stepped forward in the light. The one in the rear was tall and dark, clad all in black, wearing a long cape and a kind of hat that had not been seen in centuries. A simple white mask covered his eyes.

In front of him was a young girl, in a familiar costume. Her words were familiar, too.

"You who would threaten an innocent woman, and you who serve the great enemy that destroyed the world—beware.

"I am Sailor Moon, a champion of love and justice. Princess of the Moon Kingdom and heir to the throne of Queen Serenity of Crystal Tokyo, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil. And in the name of the Moon—I'll punish you!"

**SAILOR MOON 4200  
End Of Chapter Twelve**

**Next:** Many meetings; a foe unmasked and a secret laid bare; and, at last, the fight carried to the enemy.

* * *

_Sincere thanks to the pre-readers who helped improve this chapter: Chris Angelini, AnimeJanai, Elsa Bibat, Chester Castenada, Jed Hagen, David McMillan, Bert Miller, Aaron Nowack, Helmut Ott, Steve "Komodo" T. and LaShawn Wanak._


	15. Chapter 13: The Face of the Enemy

**What has gone before:**

Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in the year 3478. Civilisation fell; a dark age began. Now, the year 4200 is a time of renaissance, and the city of Third Tokyo is defended by a new generation of Senshi. Some of them are old faces, reborn yet again. Others are newcomers. But all of them are in trouble—because the enemy that annihilated Crystal Tokyo was never defeated. And it is waiting for them…

**In recent chapters:**

'S' Division learn Itsuko's true identity and—believing that she is working with the Sankaku—try to arrest her. With the aid of Sadako, she escapes to an emergency bolt-hole. Miyo is forced to join her, and has to leave her current school. Itsuko secretly visits a black-market "fair" to buy new identity papers for herself and Miyo, but 'S' Division see her there and threaten her again. The next night, she goes back to the Olympus to retrieve the sacred fire; however, Hiiro's team are ready and she is finally arrested. The Senshi come to the rescue, but Sailor Jupiter is nearly killed by a new prototype anti-Senshi weapon. Then a group of vitrimorphs attack, and all seems lost…until the arrival of some unexpected, but long—awaited help…

* * *

**Sailor Moon 4200**

By Angus MacSpon

_Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi_

**Chapter Thirteen**

_The Face of the Enemy  
(New Moon Rising)_

The Sunday morning sun poured down on central Third Tokyo, glinting off a myriad of windows. Down in the street, a faint breeze stirred a few stray pieces of litter. The sky was clear and blue, though a low bank of cloud on the horizon promised a later change in the weather.

In the Council Chambers, reflected light shone through the windows of the chairman's office, casting a brilliant band across the wall. The air conditioning made a faint, steady drone in the background. The two people in the office paid no attention to either.

"It becomes," observed the chairman, "an interesting political problem."

Number Twelve shot him a look of amused scorn. "How you do love to posture," she said. "Political problem! As if _that_ matters."

"Oh, but it does," he insisted. "If the government were to fall, you would be put to some inconvenience, would you not? Stability benefits us all. And, of course…" He put on a placating tone. "As matters stand, _we_ are in the driver's seat. It's always better to be the champion than the underdog."

"You think so?" Twelve said sardonically. "In the first place, you forget our true goals. Champion or underdog, it makes no difference. All that matters is pushing our pawns in the right direction, and that can be done just as effectively without wasting time on _political_ problems. As I believe others have shown in the past."

She gave him a rather nasty smirk before continuing. "In the second place, stability is also irrelevant. One might have thought that the Fall would teach you _something_. Because, in the third place…were your precious government to topple, it would inconvenience the Master not at all. We would simply push from a different direction."

"I did not mean it would inconvenience the Master," said the chairman quietly. "I meant it would inconvenience _you_."

Twelve stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed. It sounded surprisingly natural at first: almost human, in fact. Then it changed, taking on a colder, harsher note, like the grating of stone, before breaking off suddenly. She regarded him with dark, reptilian eyes and said, "The two are one and the same."

"I wonder," he murmured. But he could not meet those eyes for long; he had to look away.

To give himself a moment to think, he stood and went to the bench at the rear of the office, and filled a fine bone china cup from the teapot. It was Darjeeling, and black-market; the idea of illicit tea in the Council Chambers amused him at times.

Absently, he picked up another cup and made an interrogative gesture to Number Twelve. She gave him a flat, chilly stare that brought him to his senses immediately. "I do not eat or drink," she said.

There was an almost pitying derision in her tone, as if she felt sorry for his weakness. The chairman wondered at it for a moment. How did she survive? The Master must sustain her. Surely?

Returning to the desk, he sat down once more, taking a single sip of the tea and then forgetting it. "Irrelevant or not," he said carefully, "the political problem remains. The Serenity Council rules in the name of the Queen, and until her return. It's in the constitution; we can hardly resile from it. If she returns, she could order us to step down…and take up the reins of power herself."

He regarded Twelve levelly. "Would that," he asked, "be enough of an inconvenience to bother you?"

He was spared her answer when a knock came at the door. A young man in a plain dark suit came in, bowed, and then laid two folders on the chairman's desk. He bowed again and left briskly.

"At last," Twelve grated. She picked up one of the folders and started to leaf through the report within. The chairman followed suit. They read for a time in silence.

"Well," the chairman said at last. "It could have been worse, I suppose."

"Worse?" said Twelve. "It was a _triumph_."

The chairman looked down once more at the report. It spelled out, in a fair amount of detail, the events of the previous evening. He had known part of it already, and he liked the full story even less.

"Mm. Quite," he murmured. "But for whom, I wonder? Them, or us?"

Twelve smiled, and in her eyes there was an avid, wolfish glee. "Both," she said, and laughed. "This only makes it better. Every battle they win makes our victory more certain…and what triumph could be better than one your enemy wins for you?"

The chairman stood up from his desk—making a small grunt of pain as the motion flexed his hands—and went to the window, looking out with a thoughtful expression. "I'm not so sure," he said. "After all, triumph or not, you still hadn't planned on _her_ appearing—"

* * *

Eight hours before:

There were three doors in the darkened office of the Olympus Gymnasium. All three were open. One, hanging on broken hinges, led out into the corridor. The second door was normally hidden, but now it stood ajar, allowing a thin red line to shine across the office floor from the little room where the sacred fire burned. The third door led into Itsuko's apartment suite.

All activity in the office had come to a halt. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the two figures that stood in the third doorway, silhouetted against a pale, glimmering halo of light. One was a masked man: tall, dark and dressed all in black, an archaic top hat on his head and a cane in one hand, his long cloak swirling about him.

Before him was a slender girl with a golden tiara on her forehead. Her costume was just as ancient: a sailor fuku, in white, blue and red. The words she spoke were a challenge so well-known it was legendary. In another's mouth it could have sounded hackneyed, even ludicrous. But there was a ring of conviction in her voice that left those who heard it in no doubt that she was there to fight for justice…and love.

"Princess of the Moon Kingdom and heir to the throne of Queen Serenity of Crystal Tokyo, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil. And in the name of the Moon—I'll punish you!"

The moment was pregnant; it seemed to stretch forever. As the watchers held their breaths, the girl took one step forward, and opened her mouth to speak again—

And then Sailor Venus seemed to explode. "_Ya-HOOOO_!" she shouted, punching the air in joy. Then, grinning wildly, she launched herself across the room in an almost feline bound, springing up and wrapping her arms around a vitrimorph's head. "Get it, Sailor Moon!" she yelled. "Get it!"

For an instant the room froze again, though this time for a very different reason. A moment later, and the stillness became chaos.

- - -

Sailor Uranus ducked to her left, manoeuvring behind the vitrimorph that threatened Itsuko. It reacted instantly, whirling and lashing out at her with ponderous force. But the arm it struck with ended in a clean stump; its hand had been sliced off by Moon's attack, seconds before. The stump whistled harmlessly past her face, leaving the vitrimorph standing foolishly.

Uranus did not hesitate. She leaped back nimbly and cried out her attack: "Music of the Spheres!" In the dim light, the beam was clearly visible; it struck the vitrimorph's head dead-centre. The monster froze for a second, almost seeming to shudder. It made a strange moaning sound, almost animal-like.

Then it moved again, surprisingly fast, reaching down with its remaining hand to pick up a chair and throw it at her with stunning force. Uranus tried to dodge, but the range was too short; there was no time. She felt a single instant of panic. Then the chair caught her across the ribs and knocked her flying. She crashed into the wall by a row of filing cabinets and slid to the floor, stunned. The room spun about her. Before she could move again, the vitrimorph was standing over her, its hand raised to smash down.

With a sharp, flat crack, two shots rang out. A pair of tiny holes appeared in the centre of the vitrimorph's forehead, surrounded by a web of fine cracks. The vitrimorph paused; it almost seemed puzzled. Still half-dazed, Uranus looked around. Not far away, the tall blond man from 'S' Division lowered his gun and shouted at her, "Move, you idiot!"

_Weren't we supposed to be fighting these guys?_ she wondered muzzily. Then her instincts took over.

She rolled to her feet, barely in time to avoid the massive crystal fist that sent three filing cabinets into oblivion.

- - -

As Uranus fired her attack, Itsuko clapped her hands over her ears with a cry of agony. The Music of the Spheres was a sonic beam, and in these close quarters the sound seemed to cut through her head like a buzz-saw. The pain was incredible. She staggered back, almost blinded by it, still clutching her head long seconds after the sound had stopped. When she finally dared to lower her hands, she saw that they were stained dark with blood.

She leaned back against the wall, suddenly giddy. Her knees did not want to support her. She sank into a crouch, and fumbled her way into dubious shelter behind an overturned chair. Around her, the madness continued: a vicious, close-quarters battle fought in the dark. Impossible odds; but the Senshi had no choice other than to fight. When did they ever?

It wasn't completely dark, though. There was a thin light spilling into the room from the sacred fire, and a dull red flicker from the smouldering papers on the floor that had been set alight earlier, when Jupiter's powers went mad. But there was something else, too: a soft, pearly glow, coming from the door where Sailor Moon had entered. What was that? Certainly not an electric light. It was dim, but she could almost think that, little by little, it was getting brighter.

She glanced around blearily. On the far side of the room, half-visible, Sailor Mercury fired another Ice Spear into the vitrimorph with the rose in its eye. With a muffled crunching sound, a palm-sized piece of its head was ripped away. It paid no attention; its return blow missed Mercury by a hair.

Meanwhile, the vitrimorph that Venus was wrestling reached up to pull her away. She twisted like a cat, avoiding its hands and still shouting at the top of her voice. Before it could get a grip on her, she swung down head-first, slipping deftly between its legs to come up behind it. She cried out her attack—and as her chain formed, she looped it around the vitrimorph's neck and started trying to throttle it.

Itsuko goggled at the sight, and shook her head. _I have __got_ to have a talk with that girl, she thought.

_If she survives, that is. And if I do._

- - -

Sailor Mars hung in the background, waiting for a chance to act. Going unnoticed was something that she was very good at. So was patience. Both of them, for her, were survival skills.

Dhiti had shown her that she had a new skill, though: concentrating heat. A few days before, she'd used it to help destroy a vitrimorph like the ones they fought now. If she was careful, if she picked the right moment, she could help her friends. She could be one of them. She could be powerful.

She could be worth something.

The idea thundered in her mind. The chance to show, finally, that she was not a born mistake; to do something that would scream at the world, "I am not a failure!" It burned in her…like fire.

All she had to do was wait, and watch. And pick her moment.

There was someone else doing the same thing, she saw. (She was good at seeing things. She might hang back, but she kept her eyes open.) A burly man with a heavily-stubbled face; he stayed in the shadows, a gun in his hand, and he watched intently as Senshi and monster whirled and spun through their battle-dance.

Then, across the room, Sailor Mercury tried to dodge another blow from the vitrimorph she was duelling. In the dark, her foot came down on a fragment of ice from one of her own attacks, and skidded. She cried out and started to fall—and the vitrimorph reacted instantly.

The man reacted faster. His gun barked, once and again. Shards of crystal flew from the fist that was raised to smash Mercury. The vitrimorph froze, then swivelled to face the new threat; but already the man was gone, fading back into the shadows. Mercury scrambled clear and fired off another ice spear, and the battle resumed.

Sailor Mars watched it all. Part of her raged with shame and envy, thinking that if only she were stronger, she could have been the one to save Mercury. Another part of her, secret and buried far below the surface, thought that she rather liked the burly man. But the rest of her, the Iku on the surface, simply watched—and waited.

Her moment came at last. There was a pile of loose papers in front of the desk that had somehow caught fire. The flames had been spreading slowly, no more than a thin line of orange-red creeping across the sheets, but now they were finally catching the carpet alight as well. Bright yellow tongues of fire began to dance. And, as if in answer to her hopes, one of the vitrimorphs—rocked back by an attack from Sailor Uranus—stepped squarely into the flames.

Mars took a breath. Unbidden, a memory returned from the previous Wednesday, after the battle at the mall: of Suzue, her eyes wide, after they heard what Mars' attack did. _"You'd better be very careful,"_ she had said. _"You could burn down the whole city."_

_I can be careful,_ Mars vowed silently. _Just watch me._ Then she raised her hands and called out, low but clear: "Burning Mandala!"

Thin lines of light swirled about the vitrimorph. Sparks leaped futilely from its crystalline body. And then, to her horror, the fire at its feet flickered once…and went out.

Sailor Mars stared down at her hands. Her lips moved soundlessly.

She had failed. Again.

- - -

Miyo awoke in a dark, silent void. She felt terrible; her whole body ached, and her neck and forehead throbbed as if burned by fire.

She tried to make sense of what had happened. She had gone to the Olympus as Sailor Jupiter and confronted the men holding Itsuko prisoner. They had refused to let her go. She had made threats. And then—

Something had moved behind her; something touched her neck. An instant later, her powers ran wild. It was as if the whole of her Jupiter Power had triggered at once—not in a controlled manner, like when she transformed or used her attacks, but wild, open-throated, the entire power of a world channelled through her body in one savage overload. There was no way to escape it, no way to channel it somewhere safe; just endless convulsing pain, until oblivion claimed her.

She thought about how Sailor Neptune had died, during the Fall. Had Michiru burned the same way?

But somehow, it seemed that Miyo had survived. Father Jupiter looking after his daughter, perhaps. She felt as if she had been plugged into the National Grid, but she was alive. Where? In a hospital, perhaps?

She opened her eyes—and as if she had thrown a switch, the world exploded into being around her. A confused jumble of moving shadows filled her vision; a roar of sound assaulted her ears. Her mind reeled, unable to grasp what she was seeing. Then, in one sharp moment, it all snapped into focus around her. She was lying on the floor in Itsuko's office; the room was only dimly lit; and there were people fighting all around her.

She groaned and tried to get up. Her body would not obey; she could barely manage more than a twitch. The motion sent a wave of nausea through her and she groaned again.

"Stay down," said a voice in her ear.

Miyo turned her head and saw a man crouched at her side, watching the battle intently. His face was in shadow…and he was holding a gun.

She jerked at the sight and tried to roll away from him. It worked a little better this time; she managed to turn halfway over before he caught her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

"Don't be a fool," he rasped at her. "If you attract their attention, they'll kill you."

As he spoke, he turned his head a little and his face caught the light. She recognised him: he was the man who had been arresting Itsuko when she'd arrived. The man who'd given the order to take Jupiter down.

Furiously, Miyo wrenched herself free of his hand and managed to get up on one elbow. It was easier to move now; the anger seemed to help. She had, she saw, been pulled back into a corner of the office, out of the way of the battle.

That was just as well. She goggled for an instant as she saw _four_ vitrimorphs together, and the other Senshi locked in battle.

With a grunt of effort, she forced herself to sit upright, bracing herself against the wall. The man with the gun reached for her shoulder again, then hesitated and withdrew his hand.

"Damn it," he whispered, barely audible above the noise of the fight, "be sensible! Stay out of the way and I'll protect you—"

"Protect _me_?" she hissed back. "Damn you, I'm a warrior! I don't need protecting, I need to fight!"

Something in his face changed—it was almost a flinch. Then, in a voice that was queerly matter-of-fact, he said, "I don't think the others need your help right now. Not since…_they_ arrived."

"'They'—?"

Then Miyo saw the couple he was talking about, and forgot to finish her sentence.

- - -

Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen. They came in fighting side-by-side: he with calm efficiency, she with unalloyed passion. When Sailor Venus looped her chain around a vitrimorph's neck and tried to hold it in place, Moon leaped forward, dodging a blow from a second crystalline monster, and threw her tiara again. The first enemy managed to duck, flipping both Venus and her chain over its head in the process, but the tiara hit it in the shoulder and gouged out a wedge of crystal the size of a fist.

Behind her, Tuxedo Kamen moved in to take on the vitrimorph she had dodged. The cane he had held earlier had somehow become a sword; now he fought with a cool economy of motion, blade in one hand and a rose in the other. His cape swirled about him, distracting the eye and making it hard to follow his movement. The top hat, as absurd in this day and age as a doublet and hose, seemed glued to his head.

Moon caught her tiara once more and stood for a moment in what was unquestionably a pose. The monster Sailor Uranus was duelling nearby aimed a fist at her, but at a warning shout from Tuxedo Kamen, Moon dodged out of the way.

As she did so, her feet somehow became tangled together and she fell flat on her face with a startled yelp. A fraction of a second later, another massive crystal fist whistled through the spot where her head had been.

Uranus hit the offending vitrimorph with another Music of the Spheres, giving Moon time to stand again. She gave Uranus a quick, embarrassed grin, and repaid the favour with another Moon Tiara Action.

This one caught the vitrimorph dead-centre. It let out a howl that almost seemed to contain words, and disintegrated into a pile of dull crystalline rubble.

Behind her, Tuxedo Kamen finished off the monster he had been fighting, by throwing his rose into its face and then smoothly beheading it with his sword while it was distracted.

With two of the massive creatures gone, there was room to breathe in the office, and they started to relax. Then, to everyone's dismay, the remaining pair began to move faster. The ponderous, almost clumsy quality of their actions seemed to vanish, and abruptly the arena became more dangerous than ever.

The other Senshi had seen this rapid escalation before, but Sailor Moon was visibly thrown by it. She froze for a moment, her body stiff with shock. The vitrimorphs seemed to recognise her surprise, for without warning, the one that had been fighting Sailor Mercury suddenly wheeled about and charged directly at her.

She started to lift her tiara once more, but too slowly. In a heartbeat the monster was towering over her, one hand theatrically poised to slam down. Moon stared up at it, her eyes enormous, her mouth open—

—And several things happened at once. A fusillade of shots rang out from four separate guns, starring the crystalline form. A rose planted itself in the vitrimorph's shoulder. A razor-sharp bolt of ice struck it full in the back. And a slender figure leaped out of the shadows and knocked Moon aside, sending her sprawling to the floor some distance away.

With Moon out of her line of fire, Uranus fired her own attack once more. The Music of the Spheres seemed to light the vitrimorph up from within, before it burst into a cloud of glittering shards.

That left only one enemy, and they made short work of it. Venus lassoed it with her chain and held it in place; Mercury and Uranus battered it from either side…and Sailor Moon, rising shakily from where she had been thrown, bisected it with her tiara.

- - -

A deep silence fell in the ruins of the office. The survivors looked around at one another. None of them spoke; there was no sound except for their rapid, heavy breathing, and a distant crackle from the sacred fire in the next room. The odd light coming from the apartment door had intensified further; they could now see each other clearly.

Moon caught her breath and reached down, helping the girl who had tackled her to her feet. "Sailor…Mars?" she said tentatively.

The girl nodded meekly. Moon smiled at her and said, "Thank you." Mars flushed and looked away, and Moon blinked; but before she could pursue the matter, Sailor Venus bounded up to the two of them, Uranus hot on her heels.

From the moment Moon had appeared, Venus had been burning with a hot, giddy joy, so strong that she could hardly keep from shouting in glee. She wanted to jump up again and whoop in triumph; she wanted to sing, or dance, or break something. Sailor Moon was here at last; their leader had come and everything was finally going to be all right. Their victory was certain now; the enemy would fall in no time, and oh, she wanted to yell out her delight!

What she said was, "Hi there. Glad you could make it." She tried to keep it cool, play the whole thing casual, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the way she could not help grinning, so widely that it threatened to split her face.

Sailor Moon gave her a rather uneasy smile in return. "Thank you," she said cautiously. "You're…Venus, right?"

"Right! Listen, you—"

Venus was cut off as Sailor Uranus arrived. The girl looked giddy, half-afraid. "Is it you?" she asked Moon in a hushed voice. "Is…is it really you?"

If anything, this made Moon look even more nervous. "Yes," she said, "it's me. Why, who were you expecting?"

"Oh, Blessed Lady," Uranus whispered. That was a strange thing to say; but Venus had no time to think about it, for at that moment a new crisis exploded on the other side of the room.

- - -

Itsuko was moving, even as Sailor Moon reached a hand down to Mars. Her head still throbbed, and her mind swam chaotically—so many things had happened, so much to try to take in at once—but one thing loomed paramount over the rest. She pushed her way out from her bolt-hole and scrambled across the floor, toward the corner of the office…and the girl who lay slumped against the wall, her face a ghastly chalk-white.

"Miyo-chan," she said urgently. "Miyo-chan, are you all right?"

One of the 'S' Division men—Captain Hiiro—was kneeling beside Miyo, gun in hand. His eyes narrowed as Itsuko approached, and he started to raise his weapon. Then he appeared to think better of it. With an almost inaudible sigh, he stood up and stepped away from the girl.

They exchanged a brief look as he rose. Hiiro was the one who had started all this…but he was also the one who had pulled Miyo to safety, and stayed by her to defend her. It changed things, but how much?

Deliberately, she turned her back on him and knelt by Miyo's side. "Miyo-chan?" she repeated. "Can you hear me?"

Miyo looked up at her. A thin trickle of blood ran from her nose, and for a moment, her eyes did not seem to focus. Then they cleared. She looked up at Itsuko with a twisted, painful grin and said, "Hiya, Itsuko. It's a mess, isn't it?"

Itsuko managed a smile of her own. "I've seen better," she admitted. "Think you can stand?"

Miyo tried, and sank back with a gasp. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time." Itsuko touched her shoulder gently, then rose again and turned to Hiiro. "As for _you_—" she began. But she got no further, for at that moment, Sailor Mercury came up to them.

The dark-skinned girl was limping, and sported a spectacular number of cuts and bruises. Her hair was wild and tangled. The ribbon on the front of her uniform had been torn away by a blow that must have come within millimetres of gutting her; only a thin, tattered strip of blue remained.

She seemed oblivious to her wounds, though. Her gaze was fixed on Miyo, her face intent, her eyes burning. She came onward, mouth open to speak, and then came to a sudden halt, glancing uncertainly at Hiiro.

In an instant—Itsuko looked on and could only shake her head in admiration—the tension erased itself from Mercury's face, and she said in a voice of calm solicitude, "Are you all right, Miss? What happened to you?"

Miyo gave a ragged chuckle. "Don't bother, Mercury. He already knows who I am. He saw me change."

Mercury's eyes narrowed. "Did he now?" She gave Hiiro a hard glance, then looked back to Miyo. "What _happened_? It wasn't the vitrimorphs; you were already out cold when we arrived—"

"'S' Division," Itsuko put in. She could not keep a touch of bitter spite from her voice. "They used some kind of device on her, made her powers overload—"

"Itsuko, _no_!" Miyo cried out.

Itsuko looked down at her, startled. "What?" she began. Then something made her turn back to Mercury.

She was just in time to see the moment of cold, black rage that washed across Mercury's face.

In an instant it was gone, and there was only calm interest in the girl's eyes. "Is that so?" She turned to face Hiiro and asked politely, "Would you care to explain?"

Hiiro looked back at her, his face blank, his eyes impenetrable. After a pause that was barely noticeable he said, "No. Not really."

Mercury's expression did not change at all. "I don't think you heard me," she said, her voice still calm. "I said, would you care to _explain_?" And then, in one swift motion, her hand came up, pointed directly at him, almost touching his forehead. Her words became a rasp of fury. "Before I blow your fucking head right off?"

Itsuko froze. Suddenly Miyo's warning was all too clear…because Itsuko could see the murderous truth in Sailor Mercury's eyes. The girl was serious. One ice spear was all it would take, and she was hair-trigger ready to do it—

Hiiro said, "No."

Mercury stiffened. "What?" she demanded. "What did you say? You _want_ me to kill you?"

"I said, no," he repeated. "I won't justify myself to you, girl. I did my duty. Now you go ahead and do yours." After a deliberate pause he added, in a tone of sour disgust, "If that's what you really think it is."

He folded his arms and glared at her, his eyes cold and impassive. Waiting.

Mercury stared back at him. "You—you—" She faltered, confused. Her hand wavered. For a breathless second it looked as if she might back down.

Then the rage was back in her face. Her hand steadied, the fingers spread almost like claws. "All right," she snarled.

"Mercury, don't," Miyo pleaded. "They were _helping_ us. Itsuko, tell her!"

"Sailor Mercury," Itsuko said carefully. She knew the fury that Dhiti was feeling. She had felt it herself, more than once. A single wrong word was all it would take to set Mercury off. "You—"

Then, another factor. A dark man appearing out of the darkness, so swiftly and smoothly that none of them saw him coming. Big and burly, his face rough and unshaven…and the gun he held to Mercury's temple, cold and bright.

"Back off, little girl," he said. "Right now."

The words froze in Itsuko's mouth. She did not know what to do. The Senshi were tough, yes; but a bullet in the head at close range would probably kill Mercury all the same. But what could she—

"No," said Hiiro. "Kuroi, no. Stand down. That's an order."

And a new voice said, "All of you, stand down."

Sailor Moon.

They froze, a living tableau: Hiiro, his arms folded, grim and defiant. Mercury, burning with rage, her hand outstretched to attack. Kuroi, cold and dangerous, ready to shoot. Itsuko and Miyo, looking on helplessly. And the impossible girl, Sailor Moon…

She came up to Sailor Mercury, her movements calm and unhurried, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you should do that," she said softly.

Mercury stared back at her, the moment of stillness broken. "Why not?" she asked. She sounded almost petulant.

"Because…" Moon paused. "Because revenge doesn't help. In the end, it will only hurt you more than him. He might be dead, but you'll have to live with it—always." She blinked, once. "In time, it will poison you."

"I—" Mercury's hand wavered. She looked…hunted. "I don't even know you," she whispered.

"I know. But still."

They held each other's eyes for a moment longer; and then Mercury looked away and snarled, "Oh, damn it, anyway." All at once, the strength seemed to drain out of her. Her arm dropped to her side, and she sagged back. As she did, Kuroi stepped back from her, his gun vanishing into some hidden pocket. Mercury paid no attention; she flopped to her knees at Miyo's side and said, "You _sure_ you're all right, Hayashi?"

Miyo smiled at her wearily. "I will be."

- - -

Captain Hiiro made a quick decision and turned away from Mercury. He shot Kuroi a look, and saw the man nod in understanding. Hiiro returned the nod, and then gave all his attention to the newcomer. The living legend.

She looked like…something out of a fairy tale. She seemed to glow, almost to sparkle. But she was there, real; he had seen her fight. He had seen her destroy, almost effortlessly, a massive crystalline monster that was immune to bullets.

He weighed his options, estimating chances. The mission was shot to hell, that was for damn sure. How to salvage the situation? What would Colonel Shiro want him to do…?

"Ma'am," he said. Suddenly, he felt unspeakably tired. "With your permission, I'll see to my people and we'll be on our way."

Sailor Moon regarded him with clear blue eyes. Her gaze was an uncomfortably searching one, and he found himself squirming mentally. "What's your name?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked. "Uh. Hiiro, ma'am," he said. "Captain Hiiro Yoichi, 'S' Division."

"Thank you." Another moment under that frank, open look. "Why are you here tonight, Captain?"

Hiiro saw no point in denying it. "To arrest Hino-san, ma'am."

"Who?"

"Uh…Pappadopoulos-san. Pappadopoulos Itsuko." He controlled his reaction to the question. _That_ was an interesting admission. Sailor Moon didn't know who Pappadopoulos really was?

"Oh. And why were you arresting her?"

"Charges of criminal conspiracy and treason, Ma'am. Also fraud and a few others."

"_Really_?" Sailor Moon's eyebrows shot up, her poise momentarily lost. "Wow." She stole a quick glance at Itsuko, then looked back to Hiiro. At last, regaining her calm, she said, "All right. You and your people can go. I'm afraid I can't let you take Pappadopoulos-san, though."

Hiiro nodded; he'd expected that. He thought about saluting as he turned away from her, but decided not to. Legend or not, he was damned if he was going to salute a teenage girl.

He checked the rest of the team. Kuroi was fine, of course. Aoiro was bleeding from a scalp wound, and looked to have taken some minor cuts and bruises, but he looked steady enough. Mitsukai was the worst off; she was limping, and held her shattered wrist in the crook of her good arm. She looked to have some electrical burns, too. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat, and she was taking quick, shallow breaths.

He told Kuroi and Aoiro to help her out. As they lifted her gently in a two-handed seat carry, he turned back for a moment.

As he'd expected, Pappadopoulos was looking at him. "This isn't over," he told her quietly. "You're still wanted…and we _will_ find you."

She lifted one eyebrow, but did not reply. Her face was unreadable; her gaze never wavered.

He nodded once more to Sailor Moon, who had watched the exchange with obvious interest, and followed Kuroi and Aoiro out. The office door hung loose on broken hinges, but he closed it as far as he could behind him.

Outside, the corridor almost completely dark, but he could just make out the shadows of the other three, waiting for him. He opened his mouth to speak to them—

And a sudden glow of pastel light washed over the four of them, freezing them in place; and a voice that was not a voice spoke directly into his mind. «_I'm sorry, Captain…but I can't allow you and your friends to remember all this._»

* * *

"After all," the chairman said, "triumph or not, you hadn't planned on _her_ appearing."

The vulpine glee on Twelve's face faded. "True," she admitted. "We miscalculated slightly. After all, we are still only half-awake, the Master and I. But what of it? We _wanted_ her to appear; and even if we did not expect it last night in particular, I see no reason to be dissatisfied."

"Yes, yes, I know. Still…I wonder," the chairman repeated. "They managed to surprise us. In a small, unimportant way, perhaps, and one that was ultimately to our benefit. But what if they do it again?"

Twelve's grin returned. "That's what makes life interesting. Let them have their moment! The final victory will be all the sweeter."

"There is that." The chairman looked around at her and licked his lips, a quick, almost nervous gesture. "Why _four_ vitrimorphs, though? They've never faced more than one before. It seems like overkill."

"Obviously not, since the Senshi won," Twelve said sardonically. "But then, _her_ arrival wasn't the only surprise last night, was it? There was the…most interesting device that your men were using."

"I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"No? I hope not…for your sake." For just an instant, there was a terrible, dark look in Twelve's eyes, one that spoke of an endless, insatiable hunger. The slow pulsing of the jewel in her forehead quickened, and then steadied. "Let me be clearer, then," she went on. "The Interdiction Controller used against Sailor Jupiter…and, I believe, developed by 'M' Division. How did _that_ come to be there?"

The chairman frowned slightly. "I know of the project," he admitted. "I did not authorise its use."

"Then it would seem you have some investigation to do! Tell me," she said, her voice hard and flat, "when were you planning to inform _me_ of this…project of yours?"

"When it was ready to be tested!" he snapped back. He closed his eyes, calming himself, and in a more controlled tone said, "I had not been informed that the prototype was this far advanced. I still have no idea how 'S' Division got hold of it. I will be investigating both questions today."

He gave Twelve a quizzical look. "Why are you concerned, though? Surely it was to our benefit last night? Knowing that we have an effective weapon against them may even spur the Senshi on a little harder—"

"Fool," Twelve rasped. "Why do you creatures keep imagining you are permitted to _think_? Can you not see that a signal that disrupts a Senshi's powers will interfere with a vitrimorph as well? How could it _not_? When I realised what you'd done, I sent in as many vitrimorphs as I could…not to attack the Senshi, but to _destroy that machine_!"

He stared at her. "Interfere—"

"Fool, I say!" Twelve's voice was full of contempt. "Do you _want_ to see an army of vitrimorphs running wild, completely out of control? You have no conception of what you're tampering with! You will see to it that all development of the Interdiction Controller is halted, is that clear? All records of the project will be erased. You'll see to that personally!"

"I…yes." The chairman's mind raced. The implications of what he had just been told—

"_And_—" Her eyes flashed, and for an instant the jewel in her forehead lit up with a sickly pale glow. "You will find out who gave that prototype to 'S' Division. And then I will pay him or her a visit." She gave a thin, hard smile, wolf-like once more. "You had best hope it was nobody important."

He listened to her with outward equanimity, and bowed his head in silent obedience. Inwardly, he winced, knowing that he had just heard a death sentence pronounced. He only hoped that she made it quick.

Another part of him, though, still churned with the news she had given him. _Interfere with a vitrimorph…out of control!_ If the controllers somehow affected the Master's control…Somewhere deep in the private recesses of his mind, in a place that he hardly dared acknowledge still existed, he found himself thinking that having such a device might be no bad thing. If he would find a way to preserve the project—put it undercover, hide it somewhere Twelve would never think to look—

Then, with a burst of dismay, he remembered that the Master could hear his every thought. Hear, and punish.

He stood stock-still, eyes closed and fists clenched, and waited for the bolt to descend: for the icy cloud to close over his thoughts, and the cold, cold voice to pronounce judgement in his mind, and the torment to begin. Already, his hands burned in remembered agony.

But nothing happened. He waited, and nothing happened.

"Well?" said Twelve impatiently. His eyes snapped open in shock. "Do you remember after all? Something else you may have accidentally 'forgotten' to mention before?"

He shook himself mentally, trying to remember what they had been talking about. Calmly, he said, "Ah, no. I'm afraid not. But I will certainly investigate and give you the results as soon as may be."

She snorted. "Weasel," she said, her voice rich with contempt. But her anger was redirected, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

What had happened? Why had the Master not reacted to his moment of rebellion?

A thought came to him suddenly, so unlikely that he almost rejected it out of hand—and yet, so enticing that he could not help but cling to it. Since Twelve had undergone her second initiation and become the Master's hand incarnate, the Master had not controlled _him_ even once. Could it be—was it just possible—that the Master had limits? That while he controlled Twelve so absolutely, he could not divide his attention to watch the chairman as well?

Could it be that—in a limited, but very real way—the chairman was free?

He had no more time to consider the matter. Twelve went on, "I am still waiting for an explanation of _why_ your division was developing the controller at all—in particular, without the Master's knowledge."

"Surely that's obvious?" he asked smoothly. "One does not put all one's eggs in a single basket. I decided that we should at least investigate whether other…options might be effective. I saw no point in raising the matter unless the results seemed promising."

She sighed. "You still seem to be under the impression that initiative is to be desired." Fixing him with a baleful stare, she went on, "Let me be plain, then: _all_ decisions relating to the Senshi are the prerogative of the Master alone—and, through him, of me." The jewel on her forehead pulsed once, and her eyes began to glow a cold, pale green. He recoiled at the sight, even as she added, her voice rising to a roar, "You are a useful tool, true, but you are not indispensable. Further indiscretions will not be tolerated! _Is that clear enough for you_?"

An icy wind swept through the office. Loose papers swirled about the room in a mad flurry. The walls themselves seemed to groan under the onslaught. In the centre of the whirlwind, Twelve hovered, her feet half a metre off the floor, her eyes and jewel blazing with power. A foul smell filled the air.

Half-blinded, in sudden mortal terror of his life, the chairman threw himself to the floor before her. All his hopes of the previous moment were forgotten, washed away in the face of the demon before him. He bowed his forehead to the floor, trembling, his heart beating wildly, and waited for the end.

The wind died away. A quiet voice said, "Get up, fool." He raised his eyes and saw Twelve sitting back in the chair before his desk, leafing idly through her folder once again as if nothing had happened. The floor was littered with papers.

Shakily, his heart still in his throat, he climbed to his feet and lurched back to the desk himself. As he was sitting, Twelve said casually, "I trust that your pet scientist had nothing to do with the controller's development, at least."

"My—?" It took him a second to change mental gear, and longer to get his voice under control enough to be able to speak normally. "Oh. No…no. 'M' had nothing to do with it."

"Good. I know how you like your little hobby. We wouldn't want to have to deprive you of that, would we?" She gave him a malicious smirk, and threw her folder down to the desk. "All right, that's all. Let me have that name by this evening, and I'll take care of your blunder. As for the rest, I think we'll give the Senshi a few days to settle down before the next att—"

She was interrupted by a sudden, urgent knock at the door. Before either of them could speak, it was flung open and the same messenger who had brought in the reports earlier entered. He looked agitated. He hurried over to the chairman and handed him a single sheet of paper, then left even more quickly, bowing three times as he closed the door.

Twelve watched him go with lazy contempt. "He looked like a mouse making a delivery to the cat. Maybe I should follow him and…extend the metaphor." She laughed at the thought. Then she glanced back at the chairman. "What now? Some dreadful new crisis?"

The chairman skimmed the sheet quickly, and froze. He read it again. "Yes," he said, "I'm afraid so. It seems they were busier last night than we thought."

* * *

"Criminal conspiracy and fraud?" said Sailor Moon. Her eyes were wide and innocent…but was there a glint of mischief in them? "Wow. _Really_?"

"Of course not!" Itsuko snapped. "The whole thing is an idiotic misunderstanding." She glared down at the girl in the blue, white and red seifuku. "But I think we have more important things to talk about, don't we? You have some questions to answer, young lady."

Moon seemed to wilt. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "You know, then."

"Know?" Itsuko hesitated. She had a sudden feeling that she was missing something.

"I'm sorry," Moon went on glumly. "But I just never _dreamed_ that you and Miyo-san would get involved in this. I still don't see why—"

"'Miyo-san'?" repeated Itsuko, her eyes narrowing. "What—wait a minute. How do you know her name?"

Moon gaped at her. "But you said…I thought you—"

"Who _are_ you?"

"She is Sailor Moon," said a man's voice. A low, thrilling voice, filled with sincerity and passion.

Even as she turned, Itsuko knew who she would see, and cursed herself. They had forgotten him again, just as they always seemed to forget him. The faceless one, the eternal outsider, never quite part of the team and yet always there to back them up when he was needed…

And he still spoke like a cornball.

In the shadows on the far side of the room, something stirred; a patch of darkness seemed to detach itself from the rest, and became a tall, slender young man in a perfectly-tailored black tuxedo and top hat, a white domino mask covering his upper face. An opera cape swirled about him as he advanced. The sword he had wielded earlier had vanished; he once more bore an elegant black cane under his arm.

"Sailor Moon," he repeated in the same vibrant tone. His gaze swept over them all, ending on the new Senshi. The girl stepped forward to meet him, her eyes widening.

He raised a hand to cup her cheek lightly, then dropped it again. "At last," he said huskily. "You are here, and the true light of love and justice returns to the world."

"Who _are_ you?" whispered Moon. "Are you the one who keeps leaving me roses?" He towered over her; even without the top hat he would have been much taller than she. She looked very small in his shadow. But his words were gentle, even tender, and her face showed no alarm.

"I am the one who has been waiting for you," he said softly; "and now, inevitably, the fates have drawn us together. Don't you see it? Can't you feel that we are destined for one another?"

At that, Moon's composure was finally shattered. "I—I don't know," she stammered. In the dim light, her eyes were very big. She sounded half-afraid—and half-rapt. "I do feel…something…"

He stepped closer. "Then let me remind you," he murmured. He lifted one arm and swept his cape around her, drawing her to him. Even as their bodies met, his other hand touched her chin, lifting her face up, as he lowered his lips to meet hers.

Sailor Moon stiffened; then, slowly, she relaxed and melted into his embrace. Her arms crept around his back.

The kiss lasted several eternities. Then the two parted. Sailor Moon was breathing fast, and her cheeks were flushed. Tuxedo Kamen's face was unreadable beneath his mask, but his own chest rose and fell quickly. He stood facing her for one more moment, as if wrestling with himself; but then, with a sudden bound, he sprang across the office and placed one foot smoothly on the sill of the open window. There he paused, and looked back one last time at Moon.

"Truly," he whispered tenderly, "the moonlight carries a message of love." Then he turned away, ducked his head to step easily out of the window, and was gone.

- - -

"Wow," said Sailor Venus sardonically. "What a smoothie."

Sailor Uranus had been staring after Tuxedo Kamen, open-mouthed, but at Venus' words she shook her head sharply, the spell broken. She ran to the window and looked out. A second later, she turned back. "Nothing," she reported. "He's gone." She shook her head, looking almost shell-shocked. "I…well. I've read the old stories, but I never expected him to be like _that_."

"I know," Moon sighed happily. She had a silly little smile on her face. "Wasn't it just the most _romantic_ thing you ever saw?" Across the room, Sailor Mars nodded silently, three times.

Uranus hesitated. She wanted to agree. She knew all the legends, virtually by heart; she knew that the story of Serenity and Endymion had been one of history's greatest love matches, the subject or the inspiration for countless songs and epic poems. The two of them had been role models for a thousand romantic leads in plays and viddies, and for young teenagers, for centuries. How could she lie to Sailor Moon, of all people? Yet now that she had seen the man for herself—

"No," she said, resolute. "I don't know about romantic…but it may have been the corniest."

"Oh, pooh." Moon did not seem in the least bothered. "You're probably just jealous."

"What? I—I am not!"

"Good," Moon said, grinning. "'Cause he's mine, and you can't have him."

"I—" Uranus spluttered to a halt, the blasphemy of the suggestion forgotten in a surge of indignation. "What makes you think I'd _want_ him?" she demanded.

After all, she had Minoru. And Minoru was _quite_ satisfactory, thank you, even if the two of them had not actually gotten anywhere yet. Admittedly he was not as good-looking as Tuxedo Kamen; nor did he have that electrifying voice—or those beautiful hands—or that…that utterly perfect butt…

She broke off the train of thought, unaccountably flustered, and wondered what was wrong with her.

"So was he any good?" put in Venus, thankfully not noticing her confusion.

"Oh, was he!" said Moon enthusiastically. "Maybe there's something to those stories about fate after all. You know, I think he's been leaving me flowers? I keep finding them outside my door." She paused, and her brow wrinkled. "It's funny, though. I didn't expect him to have a pony-tail."

"No," said Venus thoughtfully. "Or the accent."

- - -

Miyo and Sailor Mercury exchanged a glance. Mercury started to speak; but Miyo shook her head and murmured, "Not now."

There would be time later to go over the implications; time to work out what to do about it. Time to kick themselves for the enormity of their mistake.

After all, the truth had been staring them in the face all along. They had simply overlooked it, over and over again, because the answer had seemed so obvious. The two boys even looked alike, if you ignored their hair; but they had managed to miss that too. It was not until they heard him talk that the truth became inescapable.

Tuxedo Kamen had spoken with a strong Eirish accent.

- - -

"I think," Itsuko said, "that we're getting off-topic."

"We had a _topic_?" she heard Mercury mutter distinctly. "Damn, I must not have gotten the memo." She turned her head to glare at the girl, and was gratified to see Miyo clout her on the side of the head.

Itsuko returned her attention to Sailor Moon. She was suddenly unsure what to say; the only things that came to mind seemed trite and altogether inadequate. She settled for giving the girl a short bow and saying, "Welcome. I'm glad you've come at last."

It seemed to surprise Moon, who gave her a puzzled look and said, "But I thought you said you—"

She got no further; abruptly she was surrounded by girls, all trying to speak and ask questions at once. Even Miyo joined them; Mercury helped her to her feet, and while she was visibly unsteady at first, she seemed to be recovering fast.

When Moon saw the tall girl, pale and tottery but smiling nevertheless, she broke away from Sailor Venus—who was now talking so fast she was almost unintelligible—and said, "Miyo-san! Are you all right? I'm sorry; I saw you were hurt, but I kept being…" She waved a hand around the room helplessly.

"I'll be fine," Miyo reassured her. "Uh…you know who I am?"

"Yes, of course," Moon replied. Her eyes widened suddenly and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you an international criminal, too, like Itsuko-san?"

Miyo started to answer, but then realised that she had no idea what to say to that. Mercury, alas, had no such failing. "'Criminal' is such a harsh word, don't you think?" she said, dropping an arm around Moon's shoulders smoothly. "Okay, sure, Hayashi robs banks in her spare time, and she likes to blackmail elderly women. But is that so bad, really?"

"Uh. Yes?" Moon hazarded.

"_Dhiti_!" yelped Miyo. "Don't listen to her, Sailor Moon, she's always like this."

"I think I was starting to guess," Moon said dryly. Mercury dropped her arm, pretending to look hurt. "But Miyo-san, what _happened_? Why were those men hurting _you_?"

"Eh?" Miyo shook her head. "Why do you think? I was trying to save Itsuko. I told them I'd put a lightning bolt up their asses if they didn't let her go." She saw the increasing confusion in Moon's face and added, "Well, I _am_ Sailor Jupiter."

Moon gaped at her. "_You_ are?!"

Itsuko watched, growing more puzzled each moment. Sailor Moon obviously knew both her and Miyo, but she kept on avoiding saying how, or from where. But who knew both of them? She had the maddening feeling that she was missing something terribly obvious—

"Of course," Miyo answered. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she said, a little brusquely, "And who are _you_?"

"And how did you even know to _come_ here?" put in Venus.

Moon glanced around at the interruption, and looked faintly embarrassed. "Well, actually, I was already here. I was asleep just down the hall. The noise woke me up when you started fighting."

_Already __here_?! And then, at last, Itsuko knew—and she started to laugh, at the irony of it.

The girls looked up at her, surprised. Still chuckling, Itsuko came forward and put her hand on Moon's shoulder. "All right, but the fighting's over," she said. "It's about time you changed back, don't you think?" She paused, and then added, "…Ochiyo-chan?"

Moon stared at her for a second longer. "But if you knew, why did you pretend you—? Oh, never mind." She shimmered abruptly, and became a teenage girl wearing rumpled pyjamas. She was perhaps a fraction shorter than average, with a round face and long, dark brown hair in a pony-tail.

For just an instant, as she changed, a golden symbol glowed on her forehead, then faded away. But it was not the crescent that Itsuko had expected; it was a plain golden circle. A full moon.

Miyo and Sailor Uranus both stared at her, apparently thunderstruck. Miyo blurted out, "Ochiyo-san? But—you—" Then she, too, began to laugh.

"You know her, too?" said Uranus, her eyes still wide.

"We—" Miyo stopped laughing, then snorted and started to giggle again. "We sleep together, once a week."

Ochiyo gave her an incredulous, almost panicked look. "We do not!" she protested. "I mean…in separate beds! Separate beds!"

Uranus groaned. "I don't even want to _know_," she said, in apparent pain. Then she, too, detransformed, and abruptly knelt at the startled Ochiyo's feet. "Princess," she said, "I am Sailor Uranus."

Ochiyo gaped down at her. "Itagaki-san?" she said. "But you—" She broke off suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "All right," she went on in a very different tone. "Thank you. But please, don't kneel. And don't call me 'princess'."

"But—uh, yes, ma'am." Suzue bit her lip as she stood once more. "I mean, Aizawa-san."

"You know each other?" put in Venus, interested.

"We go to the same school," replied Suzue. At the same moment, Ochiyo said, "She's in my Home Ec class." They glanced at each other, and Ochiyo grinned. Suzue did not.

Itsuko watched the exchange, mentally frowning. There was something funny going on there. Maybe the two did not get along? That could be a problem. She was distracted, though, as she saw Sailor Mercury lift her head and whisper in Miyo's ear. She was just close enough to make the words out: "Wow, she even wears elegant _pyjamas_."

Miyo shushed Mercury hastily, but she was hiding a grin. Itsuko had to repress a smile of her own. Like them, she had noticed before that Suzue tended to be a bit of a clothes-horse. Her night-dress, of a very sheer dark green material, fit the pattern.

Meanwhile, Sailor Mars had taken Suzue's place. She did not kneel; she detransformed and then bowed deeply. "Ma'am. I'm Kodama Iku," she said in a low voice. "I—they say I have to be Sailor Mars, but I'm not—I'm not very—"

Ochiyo shushed her, and studied her with what Itsuko, watching, thought was an unexpectedly shrewd eye. Then she said, "You saved my life tonight."

"I—" Iku tried to look away, then visibly steadied herself. "Yes."

"You could have been badly hurt yourself." Ochiyo smiled suddenly, and touched Iku under the chin. "I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of."

"But I—" Iku trailed off. Very softly, she whispered, "Thank you."

As Iku retired, Venus took her place, grinning. "Sailor Venus," she said jauntily, and let her transformation drop. "And, uh, my name is McCrea Bethany. Um. People just call me Beth, mostly. I, er, suppose you can call me whatever you want…"

Ochiyo gave her an odd look, as if trying to match this suddenly diffident girl with the Senshi who had been chattering away so excitedly a minute before. "Aizawa Ochiyo," she said, a trifle warily. "Pleased to meet you."

Then it was Mercury's turn. She gave Miyo a wink, and stepped up to Ochiyo. "Hi," she said. "I'm Sharma Dhiti, Sailor Mercury." She detransformed. "And I have to say, you—"

She broke off. Everyone was staring at her.

She looked down at herself.

Then she let out a high-pitched, incoherent squeak, tried frantically to cover herself with her hands, looked around desperately, and dove behind Itsuko's desk.

The others all watched her go, still staring. After a moment, Suzue said thoughtfully, "The weather _has_ been warm lately."

Miyo sighed. "She always has to make a spectacle of herself."

* * *

Hiiro and his team climbed wearily into the van and buckled themselves in. Aoiro took the driver's seat and started them back toward 'S' Division headquarters. They drove for a while in silence, the pale blue of the streetlights flicking across their faces.

"So," said Hiiro after a little. "_That_ went well."

Kuroi snorted. "What do you expect?" he demanded. "You want us to walk into the middle of a pitched battle?"

"Don't be silly." Hiiro shook his head. "Damn it—I wanted to get there _ahead_ of Pappa-san. We could have set up a trap and taken her nice and quietly. Instead we arrive and find her and the Senshi already fighting giant monsters! _Not_ what I had in mind."

"Yeah." Kuroi grumbled for a moment under his breath. "What were those fucking things, anyway?"

"Why don't you go back and ask Pappa-san?"

"Funny man."

"Yeah." Hiiro made a sour face. "Goddammit. I lost the Interdiction Controller, too. Shosuke's going to be pissed."

"The which-what?"

"A little something I borrowed from an old friend. Should have come in useful if we'd had to fight the Senshi. But one of those crystal things knocked it out of my hands as we went inside, and I saw it get smashed."

"Oh, yeah. Your friend at 'Q' Division. I remember you mentioned."

"I'll have to buy him a drink. Sometime after I work out exactly how I'm going to report all this."

Aoiro glanced around, his hands still on the van's steering bar. "What's to report?" he said. "We arrived, we saw Pappadopoulos and the Senshi fighting monsters. We saw the monsters get their asses kicked. Then we went away again before the Senshi noticed us and decided to kick our asses too."

"So _you_ write the report," said Kuroi sardonically. "You're halfway finished already."

"We do have one bit of news, anyway," said Hiiro. "They had another new Senshi."

Nobody answered. Sailor Moon; none of them wanted to say the name. And Hiiro had a pretty strong feeling that nobody at headquarters would be pleased to read it in his report, either. If _she_ had finally arrived on the scene…what came next?

In the rear of the van, Lieutenant Mitsukai listened to the others talk, but did not try to join in. From time to time, she rubbed her wrist absently. She kept having a nagging feeling that it should be hurting, for some reason, but she could not think why. After all, like the rest of the team, she was in perfect health.

* * *

Ochiyo ducked out of the office and returned a few seconds later with a light yukata, which she threw over Itsuko's desk. A hand reached up to grab it and, after a minute, Dhiti rejoined them. Her face was flushed with embarrassment.

"Um," she said. "I…don't quite know what to say."

Miyo cleared her throat. "It's not actually all that different from if we were at a public bath, or a hot spring," she pointed out.

"Yes it _is_, Hayashi.…But thanks."

Dhiti looked around the room. Some of the others had suspiciously straight faces, or were trying to hide a smirk of some description—like old poker-face Pappadopoulos. Others weren't even trying. Iku was actually crying with laughter, in almost total silence. Okay, _that_ was weird.

Suzue just looked pained. No surprises there.

"Right," Dhiti said. She coughed self-consciously. "Um. So, as I was saying—"

That was too much for Ochiyo. Her face twitched, and then she pitched forward and exploded in a bray of laughter. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shook with it, for all the world like a rag doll.

Dhiti watched her dubiously. She was starting to feel just a little annoyed. Playing the fool was one thing, but doing it by mistake was another. Flashing the whole team was _definitely_ another. Peevishly, she said, "Come on, it wasn't _that_ funny."

With some difficulty, Ochiyo managed to get herself under control. "It's not that," she gasped. "It's—it's just that I suddenly recognised you. You're the Masked Avenger!"

"I'm the—?" Dhiti froze, suddenly remembering. Then, helplessly, she started to laugh herself. "That was _you_?"

"That was me." Ochiyo wiped her eyes, and chuckled again. "I never did find out what that was all about. Maybe this time someone can explain it to me." She cocked her head at Dhiti, a glint in her eye. "But tell me: are you going to steal things or return them, this time?"

"Umm." Dhiti looked down at herself. "I may have to steal this yukata. Or borrow it, at least."

Ochiyo waved a hand in the air. "Help yourself."

"Very generous," growled Miyo. "Considering it's _my_ yukata."

"Excuse me." Beth cleared her throat. "Could the rest of us ask…what are you talking about? Who's the Masked Avenger?"

The glint in Ochiyo's eye sharpened. "Ah," she said. "Now that's a very interesting question."

"Hey! They don't need to know about that!" Dhiti said hastily.

"No?" Ochiyo purred. "Well, perhaps later."

"What happened to your hair?" asked a timid voice.

They looked around, surprised, at Iku. The girl shied back half a step at the movement, but went on, "I—I thought you were supposed to…" She trailed off, holding her hands up on either side of her head.

Suzue nodded and added, "I'd been wondering about that too, actually. After all, traditionally Sailor Moon—"

"Traditionally? You want me to wear my hair in odango?" interrupted Ochiyo, lifting her hands to her head to mime the shape. "In this day and age? Ha! _She_ wanted me to try them, too, but—" She rolled her eyes. "Please. Just shoot me."

"_You_ could wear them instead, Suzue-chan," Dhiti suggested in an arch tone. "Just to keep up tradition, of course."

Suzue gave her a cold look. "I think not."

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" murmured Ochiyo thoughtfully.

Itsuko coughed to draw their attention. "Excuse me," she said. "Maybe we should consider moving out of here? It's pretty late, after all, and maybe not such a good idea to be standing round in—" she sighed "—a wrecked office. We're lucky we haven't drawn attention already, with all the noise we've made. Though I suppose losing the lights helped—"

"Oh, that wasn't luck."

"Eh?"

"I turned the lights off," Ochiyo explained. "At the mains. That was right after Tuxedo Kamen arrived—he came in my window, actually. I don't know how _he_ knew what was going on." She grinned at the memory. "Anyway, then _she_ told us that _she_ could make it so people wouldn't notice what was happening upstairs. But that we ought to make a dramatic entrance. So I turned off the lights, and we—"

"Wait a minute," said Miyo. "Who's this '_she_'?"

Ochiyo paused. "That's a little hard to explain—"

And a voice that was not a voice echoed in their minds. «_SHE…IS ME._»

- - -

The light in the office changed.

That light…it had begun as a faint, pearly glow spilling in through the open door, silhouetting Sailor Moon against a luminous halo. But it had grown in Moon's wake, gradually brightening until it filled the office, increasing so slowly and subtly that they barely noticed it. Now it was everywhere. And now—

It rippled, like light seen through a multihued layer of water, filling the room with delicate, pastel shades. Then it began to gather together: as if a cloud of pure radiance had filled the room, but was now condensing into a ball that hung in midair, drawing inward and growing ever brighter as it did so.

As it shrank, the ball began to change its shape, taking on form and definition. For an instant, it separated into two and became a great pair of eyes, gazing serenely down at them. Above the eyes, the air seemed to split open and a golden crescent hung there, glowing brilliantly and flooding the office with a surge of colour.

At the same time, they all felt a surge of something powerful wash through them: an overpowering sense of potency, but at the same time, of wonder and passion. They felt peace, and love, and pure happiness.

Then the eyes and crescent were gone. The hazy form taking shape in the air drew in on itself once more—and suddenly, in an eye-blink, it was over. A dim light still filled the room from some indefinable source, and by it they could all see the form that stood before them. A young girl—younger than any of them, perhaps no more than fourteen—in an archaic sailor-suited school uniform, smiling happily at them. A girl with long blonde hair done up in odango, and a face that all of them knew at once.

Another blink, and she changed. Suddenly she was older, perhaps their own age, wearing a different uniform. But her smile never changed.

Another blink. She was an adult, now, and held a pink-haired infant at her breast. Her smile was infinitely tender.

Another. She was a winged queen, tall and elegant, radiant and majestic, holding a glittering jewel that filled the air with a silvery glow.

One more shift—and a strange form was before them, a translucent globe holding something that looked like an unborn child. It hung in the air, staring back at them with vast, curiously ageless eyes, silent and enigmatic. Yet somehow, the feeling of peace and serenity never left them.

"What…what is that?" whispered Beth.

"It's—" Itsuko shook her head, and sighed. "It's the Star Child from _2001: A Space Odyssey_," she answered. To the shape, she said, "Stop it, Usagi-chan. You're being silly."

They all heard its laughter. «_Dearest Rei._»

Then the globe was gone, and the queen stood there once more, tall, golden-haired, winged and beautiful, clad in a long, flowing white robe. She smiled at them, and though her mouth never moved, her voice was clear in their minds. «_Welcome,_» she said. «_Welcome to you all, my children and dearest friends. I'm so glad to see you at last._»

Around the room, they each had their own reactions. Beth's eyes grew wider and wider, and she found herself smiling helplessly. Dhiti stood very still, and let out a sigh of pure contentment. Iku closed her eyes, feeling as if she were basking in the welcome, and was startled to find her cheeks wet with tears. Suzue swayed on her feet and then collapsed to her knees, her face pale. She reached up and touched her forehead, tracing a curve there.

Miyo saw Suzue's strange reaction and wondered at it, but only for an instant. She was too distracted, filled to overflowing with incredulous joy, to think of other things. Her friend was back. Tsukino Usagi. Queen Serenity. Friend, teammate, leader, ruler; oldest, dearest, most treasured. Usagi. Somehow, improbably, back from the dead.

Almost in unison, she and Itsuko took one faltering step forward, arms flung wide to embrace her—

Then the queen held up a hand, and they faltered to a stop. «_No,_» Serenity said. «_I'm sorry, but that's not possible._»

"But…why?" asked Itsuko, her voice raw and half-choked. "What's wrong?"

«_I'm dead, Rei-chan. You can't touch me; I'm not really here._» After a moment, the queen added, «_I'm sorry._»

Itsuko stared at her, the glimmer in her eyes belying the look of mulish rebellion on her face. "It's always something with you, isn't it?" she whispered; and, amazingly, she smiled through her tears.

Miyo was holding back tears of her own, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, "Are you…some kind of hologram, then? Like that one of your mother on the Moon?"

Serenity shook her head slowly. «_No. I am here, in spirit. During the battle against the enemy, I bound myself to the Ginzuishou to preserve it from the enemy's control. Too closely. When they killed me, a part of me stayed behind—still locked inside._»

"Inside the Ginzuishou?" Miyo wrinkled her brow. "But…well, where? Where is it, then?"

«_I don't know,_» the queen said calmly.

"You don't _know_?" flared Itsuko.

«_It is dark where I am…dark, and cold. I cannot see where it is. There is nothing to see._» The golden figure paused. «_I can send my spirit out, for a little while, but not everywhere. Only to places where there is light._»

"But it's dark here, tonight," Miyo protested.

«_Not that kind of light. I mean the light of a pure heart crystal. The light of a starseed. The light of a Senshi._»

She looked around the room, her gaze falling on each girl in turn. Her voice sharpened suddenly. «_Now pay attention, all of you. I have been watching you for some time, and there are things I must say to each of you. So listen—_»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» she said to Miyo. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of them can hear what you and I say._»

Miyo glanced around, and saw that the other girls were frozen in place, caught like statues in mid-motion. She was amused at first, but when she noticed that they were not breathing, either, it became a little disturbing. "You've…stopped time?" she asked. "How? I thought that was one of Setsuna's tricks, and she was forbidden to—"

«_Not quite. It isn't time that I've frozen, but them. I can't do it for long, but it's harmless enough. They won't even notice that it's happened. As for __how_…that doesn't really matter. I've had quite a while to learn things, that's all.» She studied Miyo for a moment and then suddenly smiled; and with that, her face took on a radiance that was dazzling. «_But we're wasting time. Oh, Mako-chan, I'm so glad to see you again._»

Miyo found herself smiling fondly in return. "Me too, Sere-chan. Me, too." She tossed her head and brushed hair from her eyes, which were unaccountably moist. "Can't you stay? Isn't—isn't there any way to bring you back for good? If we could…" She trailed off uncertainly as she saw the queen shake her head.

«_No. I'm sorry. I could send some of you on to a new life, Mako-chan, but how could I send __myself_? And even that much went wrong.»

"It wasn't your fault," said Miyo firmly. Then: "Are—did any more of us make it? Or am I the only one?"

«_You have already met one other._»

It took Miyo a few seconds to realise what the queen meant. Then she said, "Mamoru."

«_Yes. Be kind to him, Mako-chan. He will find it difficult, when his memories awaken._»

"Artemis thought it might be kinder not to—" Miyo broke off. "No, that's not an option, is it? He's becoming Tuxedo Kamen already. If he doesn't remember why, he needs to."

«_I'm afraid so. It will not be easy for him; he will have to make his own happiness, in this life. But this isn't what I needed to talk to you about._» Serenity paused, and looked her straight in the eye. «_I have to ask, Mako-chan: is it well with you?_»

"I—" Miyo froze. "What do you mean?"

«_You know what I mean. Mako-chan, I'm so sorry! I tried to send you on to a better life—all of you. But I've seen what's happened to you, and it seems like I've just made things worse than ever—_»

"Stop that!" Miyo glared at her. "Stop that right now, or, spirit or not, I'll…I'll give you a good shaking! This isn't—how can you even _think_ it's your fault?"

«_Mako-chan,_» Serenity said. «_Three lives now…and you've lost your family in all three._»

"That's my father's fault, not yours. And—" She hesitated. "And it's even my fault, a little. I knew how he hated lying, and I still never told him. He had a right to be angry."

«_You're saying that you're to blame for being disowned?_»

"No! He was wrong. He was—" Miyo shook her head. "I can't find the _words_ for how wrong he was. But I…I'm not innocent, either." She grimaced. "Maybe it's just my destiny, to be without a family."

«_And yet, whether they have disowned you or not, you have parents…and also two brothers and a sister._» Serenity's voice in her mind was very soft. «_Do you really believe you've lost them all?_»

She froze—and suddenly she remembered, and the blood drained from her face. "Fujimaro," she said. "And Miliko, too. I gave Fuji-kun my comm number—but Itsuko and I had to move in a hurry, and I never—oh, no, he probably thinks I've—"

«_You must do what you think is best,_» the queen said. «_But don't give up on them too easily. Family ties should not be discarded lightly._» She paused. «_Or other ties,_» she added. «_Ties between teammates, for example._»

Miyo blinked. "What do you mean?"

«_I see that relations between you and Rei-chan have improved._»

"…You knew."

«_Not at the time. Later, when I had…time to think, I realised the truth. I realised many things._»

"Well, you can stop worrying," Miyo said firmly. "Rei-chan and I have talked it out, and we're okay again. All right?" She made a wry face. "Life's too short for grudges. She might still be immortal—but I doubt that I am; not any more. It's time to make the most of life, instead of dwelling in the past." She hesitated, and then added, "Maybe Hotaru had the right idea, all along."

«_Perhaps,_» said Serenity. «_It's something I've thought about, now and then. And yet, life __is_ precious…» She shook her head, and her face grew more sombre. «_Mako-chan…I'm running out of time. I have to go, and this isn't the reunion I wanted._» She gave her a sad smile. «_Can you forgive me?_»

Miyo returned the smile. "You have to ask?"

But then her smile faded. The memories crowded in: joyous days in Crystal Tokyo; schooldays in Juuban Junior High; being bridesmaids at each other's weddings. They were all so close, so easy to touch, as if they had been only yesterday. Darker times, too: bloody battle in the snowy arctic wastes, as they fought to enter Beryl's realm; the apocalyptic final struggle as the crystites invaded the Crystal Palace; a dozen others. But always, light or dark, happy or sad, this woman had been the focus of her life—whether her name had been Usagi or Serenity. To have to say goodbye again was more than she could bear.

"Will I ever see you again?" she asked in a small voice.

«_I can't answer that,_» Serenity told her. «_Perhaps. Yes, perhaps one more time. But Mako-chan…whether we meet again or not, it will make no difference. You will always be in my heart. You will always be my tall, proud, strong sister. And I will always love you._

«_That will have to be enough._»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» the queen said to Ochiyo. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of your friends can hear what you and I say. Whatever you tell them of what happens is up to you._»

Ochiyo nodded. "All right," she said firmly. And waited.

Serenity chuckled. «_Always so direct. You're very different from your elder sister…and yet I believe that the two of you would have been friends._»

"Princess Usagi?" Ochiyo paused to think this over. At last she said, "What was she like?"

«_Well, I'm not the most objective person to ask,_» the queen admitted. «_You might be better off asking Makoto-chan or Rei-chan. She was…I don't know what to say. Chibi-Usa, we called her when she was young, or Small Lady. How she hated those names, when she grew up! She was smart and she was funny and affectionate. Very stubborn, very determined, very headstrong. And she could be incredibly obnoxious when she wanted—though she mostly grew out of that, thank goodness._» The mental voice grew wistful. «_But oh, how we fought! Almost constantly, when we were young, when she visited me in the past. Perhaps it was because we were too much alike. Later, though, when she was older and we could put that aside…we became friends. What was she like? She was smarter than me, I think, and stronger-willed; and she was physically stronger, too—she got that from her father, I suppose._

«_What was she like? She was a daughter to be proud of. That's what she was like, Ochiyo._» Serenity looked thoughtfully down at the girl. «_Was that what you wanted to hear?_»

"I'm not her," said Ochiyo quietly.

«_No. You're very different. Truthfully, I think you take after your father more than me—in your looks, and your personality. That's not a bad thing; as I recall, I was rather fond of those looks and personality._» A flash of impish smile. «_Never doubt that we would have loved you no less than your sister…had you been born._»

Ochiyo shook her head. "I still don't understand that part. When I first saw you, you said I'd been reborn in this time. But how? You only had one daughter!"

«_Yes,_» said the queen. «_But I was pregnant when I died._»

Her daughter stared at her. After a little, she said, "Oh."

«_Four months along when the attack began—you weren't even showing yet. Only Ami-chan knew about it; we hadn't told anybody else yet, because—_» Serenity hesitated. «_Well, I'd had some problems. A series of miscarriages. But you were doing fine, and we planned to make the announcement during my birthday celebrations. Obviously that never happened._»

"So," said Ochiyo slowly, "I wasn't even born yet, and you sent me into the future—"

«_—To be born now, at last. Yes._» The queen's voice was very gentle. «_I could not save Small Lady. Should I have let both my children die?_»

"I have to say, I prefer the alternative." Ochiyo smiled for an instant, then grew more thoughtful. "But it's a lot to take in. Hey—what was my name going to be?" she asked suddenly. "Had you decided?"

«_Not finally. We were thinking about 'Hikari.'_»

"Hmm. Kind of old-fashioned. I'm not sure if I like that or not."

«_I'm sure you would have coped,_» Serenity said dryly. «_Ochiyo, I know this must seem strange: talking to a stranger who says she's your mother, when you already have a mother and father—parents you've known and loved all your life. Believe me, I know how that feels! But for you it's different. I at least had a few memories, however vague, of my past life; but you don't __have_ a past life. I…could understand, if you feel that it's not—»

"Relevant?" suggested Ochiyo. Her face was almost expressionless.

«_—Yes. I am laying claim to a kinship that, for all intents and purposes, may not matter to you. Whether you realise it or not, you may feel that this is the only life you have ever lived, and that you are under no obligations to a past that you had no part in._»

"You sound like you're trying to talk me out of this. If you're that worried, maybe you should have mentioned this _before_ you gave me the brooch!"

The queen was silent.

"Obligations to a past life? What about _this_ life, then?" Ochiyo demanded. Suddenly she was angry with the golden woman. Kinship be damned, did the queen really think she was so shallow that she might just turn her back and walk away? It was almost insulting. "You made me Sailor Moon! I have the power to fight those—those crystal things, and you think _that_ isn't an obligation? You think I could walk away from that? Well, forget it! You have some pretty strange ideas, lady! What the hell kind of queen were you, anyway?"

«_The kind,_» said Serenity, «_who is prouder of her daughter than she can say._»

"Oh, I get it. Some kind of character test." The girl shook her head, scowling. "I always hated that stuff on the viddy, and it isn't much better in real life."

A ghostly hand brushed her cheek. There was no physical sensation, but she felt a strange kind of tingle inside her head. «_You have passion,_» Serenity said. «_That's good. Cling to it. And forgive me, if I'm…concerned for you. That is a mother's prerogative, always._»

"And now we're back to you being my mother again." Ochiyo looked up at the ghostly figure and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm going to call you that. I don't even know if I'm ever going to see you again. But—" She paused. "I don't hate you. And I'm glad we could talk again."

«_As am I._» Serenity smiled for a moment. «_Ochiyo, there is one more thing we must discuss. Something that…may affect things. Or may not. I don't know—but you should be aware of it, at least._»

"All right," said Ochiyo cautiously.

«_You're aware that, before Crystal Tokyo fell, I bound myself to the Ginzuishou. For two months I used it constantly, working to keep the enemy from controlling it. My whole spirit—my __self_—was virtually joined to it. Making myself a conduit for its power.»

Ochiyo had not, in fact, been aware of this; she had not heard the story of the Fall as the others had. But all she said was, "Okay. And so?"

«_So, you were in my womb for those two months. If I was filled with the power…you were, too._»

"…Oh. _Oh_!"

«_Yes. I truly don't know what it means. Whether it might have had any lasting effect on you or not. But you may want to bear it in mind…along with everything else you've heard today._»

Again Ochiyo felt that ghostly touch. «_And now…farewell, daughter. Go with my blessings—and my love. Always._»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» the queen said to Beth. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of your friends can hear what you and I say. Whatever you tell them of what happens is up to you._»

"Okay," said Beth cautiously. She glanced around and noticed that the other girls were inexplicably frozen in place. It was odd, but no odder than anything else that had happened tonight. "Uh…what did you want to talk about?"

«_This and that,_» Serenity replied, smiling faintly. «_McCrea Beth, you have been a surprise to me. I don't think I've ever heard of a Senshi trying to train herself the way you are._»

"Oh." Beth thought about it. "Er, you mean the cat thing? Because that was sort of Bendis' idea. And I've _told_ her that humans just don't do that sort of thing, but she—"

«_No, not that. I mean your new reading habits._»

"Oh," Beth said again, this time with some surprise. The books were just something that had seemed like a good idea at the time. It had occurred to her a few weeks ago that as a Senshi, she was likely to get into a wide range of situations where a little inside knowledge might help; so she had decided to do a little private study.

In practice, since she could only guess what situations might actually arise, her reading had been rather haphazard. She had read books on martial arts. She had read medical textbooks (and only later realised that practical first-aid manuals might have been more useful). She had read books about psychology and architecture, and books about botany and code-breaking and book-binding and hydraulic dams and symbolism in traditional Indian folk-tales. Some of them had been quite interesting; some had been completely over her head; and quite a lot of them had been stupefyingly boring. So far, though, she was persisting.

"You don't think it's going to help, then?" she asked cautiously.

«_No, I d—That is—Actually, I have no idea._» The queen gave her an impish grin. «_It might be completely useless. Or, who knows? Something you read might save your life someday._» She chuckled. «_I recall a Senshi who once told me that learning something new is always worthwhile, even if you never use it at all._»

Beth thought about this. "That doesn't make any sense," she complained.

«_That's what I said, too, and Ami-chan got quite upset with me. She had some funny ideas about books…_» Serenity gave a ruminative pause, then went on, «_I'd say, carry on with it if you want to. It's original, at least…and I think originality might be your strength._»

"Oh, not me," said Beth. "Sailor Venus is the original one, not me. Or Bendis." Honesty made her add, "Or maybe Dhiti-chan."

«_Ah? Well, I won't discuss Dhiti with you,_» the golden woman told her. «_That's for you to decide. As for the other…hmm. I have to thank you for being a friend to Bendis. I think she's been looking for a friend like you all her life._»

The idea was a pleasing one. "You've met Bendis, then?"

«_I've watched the two of you work together, though she has never seen me._» Serenity sounded a little sad for a moment. «_But I knew her grandmother Diana well, and of course her great-grandmother Luna. Luna was…almost like another mother to me. When I learned how she died…_» Another pause. Then the queen seemed for draw herself up, forcing a more cheerful expression. «_But we were talking about originality. Yes, Bendis is inventive. It comes with her age, perhaps! But don't sell yourself short, Beth. You have much to offer yourself._»

Serenity stopped suddenly and frowned, as if she were debating with herself. At last she went on, «_That brings me to what I really wanted to say to you, and I'm afraid it may be a difficult thing for you to hear. Beth, a minute ago you said something rather odd. You told me that Venus is the original one…not you._»

"Oh, but I didn't mean…" Beth trailed off. What _had_ she meant? It was always so difficult, trying to think about Venus. She knew the answer, truly; it was on the tip of her tongue, but—

The queen was watching her with an oddly sympathetic expression. She reached out to touch Beth gently on the forehead, leaving only a faint tingling sensation, and said, «_Have you told the others yet?_»

"Told—?"

«_Have you told them who you are? Don't you think it's about time they knew the truth?_»

"But they do know who I am! I'm—I'm—" She faltered: suddenly, crazily, uncertain.

«_Some of them think that you are Aino Minako reborn. Or, at least, that a part of you is._»

"What?" Beth stared at her, dumbfounded. "I don't understand."

«_I think you do._»

"Is…is it true?" Beth was not sure if she wanted to hear the answer—or dreaded it. Either way, she found herself holding her breath as she waited.

«_That is a very interesting question. It is not, sadly, one that I can answer for you._» Serenity's eyes were compassionate. «_I could tell you to believe in yourself, but that's what you have to learn, isn't it? Instead, take courage. The truth may be difficult for you to bear, but you can do it._»

Very softly, she added, «_You will find, in the end, that that is where true heroism begins._»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» the queen said to Dhiti. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of your friends can hear what you and I say. Whatever you tell them of what happens is up to you._»

"Hmm," said Dhiti. "So I could tell them you said anything at all, and they'd probably believe me?"

Serenity chuckled. «_Or perhaps none of them would believe you, even if you told them the truth! You do inspire a certain…scepticism in others, Sharma Dhiti._»

The girl grinned back. "I am good at it, aren't I?" she replied, not without a certain satisfaction. "You'd be amazed how often it comes in useful."

«_Ah? But useful for what, I wonder? For keeping others at arm's length, perhaps? You do seem reluctant to let others get too close._» Serenity gave her a long, level look, her head tilted slightly to one side. «_You build a barrier of humour around your heart…Are you so afraid of what might happen, if you let people in?_»

"Wrong." Dhiti shook her head. "That's not it at all. Far too simplistic, Queenie-chan." She grinned, not at all perturbed by the golden woman's words. "You know, it's funny. I had almost this same conversation with Artemis, last week."

«_Oh? And what conclusion did the two of you reach?_»

"That people are complicated. There aren't any simple, pat answers." She shrugged. "What did you expect? I know who I am. It doesn't bother me."

«_You really think you know who you are? I wonder._»

"Oh, now you're just being pointlessly obscure." Dhiti cocked her head up at the queen with a smirk. "I like that. I'll have to try it, next time I want to annoy Suzue-chan."

The queen shook her head. «_You make light of everything. Why try to annoy her? Mightn't it be a better idea to be her friend, instead? She needs friends, you know._»

"But that's what I'm _doing_."

«_Oh?_»

"I—" Dhiti started; but then she broke off. She was silent for some time, debating with herself. At last she said, "All right, then. You really want to know who I am? I'll tell you. I'm the Court Jester, that's who! Ready to poke fun at everyone. The girl nobody takes seriously. The one who can do anything, say anything—even the things nobody else dares to say." She looked defiantly up at the queen. "So, yeah, I make light of everything. But also…I'm the one who gets Suzue-chan so worked up that she actually breaks down and acts human once in a while. I crack jokes at Iku-chan until she forgets to be scared, and sometimes she even smiles! And when Hayashi gets too wound up, I bug her until she _relaxes_ a little." Her voice had risen as she spoke, growing more passionate; but then, all at once, she broke off and sighed. "It was an honourable calling, once."

It was Serenity's turn to be silent for a little. «_You take a lot on yourself,_» she said.

"Oh, well, maybe." Dhiti grinned suddenly. "That's who I am today, anyway."

«_…Eh?_»

"Tomorrow, maybe I'll go back to just being the resident smart-ass. The day after that, who knows? Maybe a lion-tamer." She gave the golden woman an impish look. "Didn't you hear? I'm as slippery as ice."

«_But—you're just—_»

"Had you going, though, didn't I?" She chuckled. "Come on, Queenie-chan. Life's too short to be stuck doing just one thing, and I want to do _everything_! Sure, I might try out the Shakespearean clown thing for a while, but as a profession? Nahh."

Serenity shook her head. «_I don't know. You __are_ slippery. I think you meant more of what you said than you want to admit. And I think…I think that…»

"Yeeesssss?"

«_I think that I __definitely_ don't want you to call me 'Queenie-chan' any more.»

Dhiti burst out laughing. "Touché! A very palpable hit." She winked slyly. "I took fencing for a while, you know." Then she cocked her head up at the queen and said, "Hey, did you notice that all the others aren't moving?"

«_I may have had something to do with that._» The queen smiled.

"Oh, and here I thought something mysterious was going on. Pity. Still, it's a good trick. Boy, if I could do that, the things I could get away with! I don't suppose you could—?" She saw Serenity's expression and grinned. "Didn't think so. Oh, well, easy come, easy go. You know, this whole thing is _such_ a shame."

«_Oh? Why?_»

"You're a ghost, right? You can't touch anything?"

«_That's right._»

Another sigh. "Otherwise, I'd ask you for your autograph. It'd be worth a _fortune_!"

Serenity chuckled, and shook her head. «_If I could, I'd give it to you. Dhiti…listen for a moment. You spend your life on dazzle and flair, always trying to blind everyone with your intelligence—_» She paused. «_Or, no, not your intelligence. With your cleverness. It's not the same thing, is it?_»

"If you say so." Dhiti frowned. "What's your point?"

«_You __do_ use it as a shield, whether you admit it or not. Beware, Sharma Dhiti. Someday, you will have to open your heart at last.» Serenity gave her a sombre look. «_Doing so may lead you down some dark roads. I wonder, will you have the courage to walk them to the end?_»

Slightly unnerved, Dhiti tried to shrug it off. "Hey, don't worry. I told you; I'm as slippery as—"

«_As ice, yes._» The queen nodded. «_But then, that's always been your problem, hasn't it? What happens when you want to __stop_ slipping away?»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» the queen said to Iku. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of your friends can hear what you and I say. Whatever you tell them of what happens is up to you._»

Iku's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She hunched herself back, her eyes lowered and her arms closing around her body, and said in a tiny voice, "Yes, your majesty."

Queen Serenity studied her for a little, her eyes compassionate. At length she shook her head and said, «_There are so many things I'd like to say to you…but I'm not sure how much is wise. I'm not sure, to be honest, that I've got the right._»

"I…" Iku raised startled eyes to meet the queen's for an instant, and then flinched away again. "I don't understand," she whispered.

The queen smiled in reply. «_Don't worry. It's not important; not yet. For now…Kodama Iku, I should start by saying how grateful to you I am. You don't know how much it means to me, that you've joined the other girls._»

The girl's head shot up, so startled that, for a moment, she forgot to be afraid. "_Grateful_?" she burst out. "But—but I—"

«_Yes._» Serenity's voice was grave. «_For, Iku, you alone, out of all of them, had a choice. The others were all born to their roles…but you, you could have said no. And you chose to help them anyway._»

Iku stared back at her, uncomprehending. She did not understand this; none of it made sense. Chose to help? Her mind swam. She had not helped; she had failed in her attack earlier, just as she always failed. And the queen was _grateful_?

"You're making fun of me," she whispered.

«_No,_» said Queen Serenity. «_Never._»

The sincerity in the queen's voice was unmistakable, and suddenly, it was just too much. Something long-buried and almost forgotten, deep within Iku, boiled up inside her. "I don't help them!" she cried out. "I just get in the way. I…can't do anything right! I'm just worthless…" She fell to her knees, her eyes cast down, her voice shaking. Hot tears stung her eyes. In a voice filled with bitter acceptance, she repeated, "I'm worthless."

She knew it was true. She had heard it so many times before.

For a moment there was no reply. Then she heard the queen say, «_It is hard for you, I know. That's to be expected._»

"Why?" she wept. "Why?"

«_Because you are not truly one of my Senshi._»

Again, she froze. The words rang in her years, a hollow thunder that echoed and re-echoed in her skull. She felt numb; empty. This was it: the blow she had been waiting for for so long; the ultimate rejection. She had never truly understood why the other girls had wanted her in the first place, but here, at last, she had the truth. It had all been a mistake. Of course it had. A voice, all too familiar, rang in her memory: _Who would ever want __you_? And she knew that it was true.

"I'm not," she repeated dully. And, slowly, she climbed to her feet once more. She could bear this, too; she could continue. What was one more blow, to her?

«_No,_» Serenity said. «_Truthfully, I don't know __what_ you really are. You must have realised that some power is calling you, some destiny that you're being summoned to answer. I don't know what that might be. And yet…» She paused, and there was soft amazement in her voice. «_And yet, when you offered yourself—when you picked up the henshin wand and spoke the transformation phrase—the Mars Power accepted you. __Accepted_ you! Iku, you were born to be something else, not Sailor Mars…but the power responds to you anyway, of its own free will. I don't think that's _ever_ happened before.»

It…wasn't a rejection? It was something…else?

"It doesn't respond to me," Iku said, her voice filled with bitterness. "No matter how hard I try, it doesn't work."

For the first time, the note of gentle sympathy left the queen's voice. «_Yes,_» she said sharply. «_And we both know why that is, don't we?_»

Iku's head snapped up in startled indignation. "No," she protested. "No, it isn't _my_ fault!"

«_Isn't it?_» insisted Serenity. «_Is it so surprising that the power might be unwilling to serve someone who fears it?_»

"But—I—" Iku faltered to a stop. "You said it accepted me," she finished weakly.

«_And so it did. I wonder why?_» The queen looked thoughtful for a moment. «_I wonder if it isn't trying to help you—to give you a chance to become what you need to be?_»

"I don't…know what you mean…"

«_Hmm. It doesn't matter for now, I suppose._» The golden woman gazed down at Iku, her face still pensive, and nodded. «_Iku, we both know the problems you have. I can't say that facing them will be easy; it would be a lie, and we both know that, too. But I'll tell you this: if you want help, you are surrounded by people who will do their utmost to give it. All you have to do is ask._»

Iku bit her lip. _All you have to do is ask…_ The idea was so tempting, so seductive; she longed to say yes, to reach out a hand then and there. To be wanted…to be _free_!

Then she thought of what she would have to do—to open herself up, to reveal herself like that—and in an instant, her moment of shining hope crumbled to ashes. She could only shrink back in horror from the idea. It was more than impossible; it was simply inconceivable.

For a little while there, she had stood tall; she had spoken to the queen the same way…well, the same way a proper girl would. But it was better to understand the truth; better not to reach for what could never be. She knew the truth; she had been told it a thousand times. Better to just accept it.

"I can't," she said. "They've got more important things to do. They shouldn't have to bother with someone like me…"

«_As long as you think that, you'll be trapped in your cage,_» Serenity told her sadly. «_Did you ever think that perhaps they would __like_ to bother with you?» She shook her head, and sighed. «_If you will not ask, things will have to take the other path after all. It's a darker road, and it leads to a great deal of sorrow. But we all make our own choices; and in the end, there is hope…_»

"What do you _mean_?" Iku asked desperately. "How do you know all these things? I don't understand!" The last came out in what was almost a wail, an infant cry of protest. And then, very softly at the end: "What am I?"

«_I know because before I died, I bound myself to the Ginzuishou—joined myself to the living light. It's a wonderful way to purify and clarify your thoughts…the only downside is that you have to die to do it._» The queen smiled for an instant, then grew serious once more. «_Since then, I have had a great deal of time to watch the world—and think._»

She paused. «_Iku…I don't know what you are. I'm sorry. In the end, when you have become what you must become…I hope that you will come back and tell __me_.»

- - -

«_—Listen,_» the queen said to Suzue. «_I have divided us away from the others for a moment. None of your friends can hear what you and I say. Whatever you tell them of what happens is up to you._»

Suzue heard the words of the Holy One with awe, joy and not a little dread. Her chest was tight, her head swimming, and her knees felt disturbingly weak. She struggled for calm. One should not show fear before one's goddess.

She knelt, her head lowered. "Blessed Lady, I am your servant," she said humbly. "Command me as you will."

Queen Serenity regarded her with solemn eyes, her face thoughtful and calm. At last she said, «_Rise, faithful one. You need not bow to me._»

In fact, Suzue would have preferred to stay kneeling. It was easier to control herself that way; also, it de-emphasised the fact that she was wearing a rather daring night-dress. But she could not disobey, of course. "Your will, Blessed Lady," she said, and rose smoothly.

«_Thank you._» The queen studied her for a moment longer. «_You __are_ faithful, I think—to your beliefs, and to what your heart tells you. These are good, worthy attributes.»

Words of praise from her deity. Unexpectedly, Suzue felt a prickle of tears in her eyes.

«_It is a shame,_» Serenity continued, «_that you cannot open your heart enough to trust your teammates._»

"What?" Suzue blurted out in surprise, then blanched as she realised how rude she was being. "Uh, I'm sorry, Holy One—ah, I mean—um. I'm sorry. I don't understand."

«_You are not alone in that._» The queen smiled for an instant, then became serious once more. «_I mean that you have not trusted them enough to tell them who you are. And __what_ you are.»

"Oh." Suzue bit her lip. Of all the things in the world that she dreaded having to face, this one ranked among the highest. To have it brought up by Queen Serenity, of all people…She looked away, her face reddening. "I—"

«_Are you ashamed?_»

"No! Of course not. I'm proud of who I am. How could I ever be ashamed of serving you?" she asked, almost pleading. "It's—I'm—"

«_Well?_»

"…I'm afraid," she admitted. "Blessed Lady, you know what most people think of us. They call us names; they hit us; they think we're crazy! When I tried to tell people at school, years ago, they—no, that doesn't matter." Despite her words, she could not help shivering at the memory. "Even now, I can't even talk to my own best friend about the most important thing in my life! Not even to my boyfriend—"

«_Hush._» The queen held up a hand and Suzue fell silent, breathing a little hard. «_I know,_» Serenity continued, «_I know what trials you face. I know what it costs you to maintain your beliefs._» Her voice held warmth and sympathy; but even so, there was a note of reproof in it as she said, «_But Suzue, that does not excuse you, does it?_»

"…No, I suppose not," Suzue admitted. "I…I did try to tell Beth-san, a few days ago, but…well, that didn't work. And when I told Itsuko-san—I mean, Hino-sama—she said—"

«_Yes, I know. Dear Rei-chan. She has quite a temper, doesn't she?_» Unexpectedly, the queen chuckled. «_You should hear some of the names she used to call __me_. 'Odango-atama' was one of the mildest.»

Suzue stared at her. "H-Hino-sama used to…?"

«_Oh, yes. She was quite the fireball—and still is, when she wants to be. I used to annoy her deliberately, sometimes, just to see her explode…but I'm getting off the topic. You've made up with her since then, haven't you?_»

"Yes…mostly. We've talked a few times, and I think we've more or less decided that we can disagree without fighting. And I think she _does_ know the truth, really; she just doesn't want to admit it." Suzue gave the queen a quizzical look. "Why is that? She was your friend; why doesn't she—?"

«_That is for you and she to discuss. For now, there are other things you need to consider._» The queen paused. «_Suzue, I am not telling you that the other Senshi will take your news kindly. Some of them may not be troubled by it; others may react badly. But I __do_ know one thing: they have stood by you and fought by your side, and they deserve your trust. And if you cannot trust them, how can they ever become your friends?»

"I…suppose so." Suzue was silent for a moment. "Still, it's hard."

«_Many things are. That does not make them less important. Have a little faith, Itagaki Suzue. They are worth it._»

Suzue swallowed. "All right. I'll do my best."

«_I know you will._» Serenity paused. «_My advice would be to tell them soon. The longer you leave it, the worse it will be. But it's up to you, of course._»

"I will." Suzue blinked several times rapidly, and then said in a rush, "Blessed Lady, may I ask? Why does it all have to be this way? Why don't you just…reveal yourself, and set everything to rights?"

The question seemed to take the queen aback, and she did not reply for some time. At last, quietly, she said, «_Because I __must_ not. Suzue, the battle against evil should be fought by human hands. Always. How else can people learn, and grow?» Serenity shook her head. «_You can't just tell people what to think; you can't __make_ them do the right thing. That only leads to—» She broke off suddenly, and a look of profound grief passed over her face. «_That leads to a world full of disaffected exiles on the planet Nemesis…and even greater evil later on, when they want to return home. At least, that's what happened when I tried it._»

"But that wasn't your fault!" protested Suzue.

«_No? Not all of it, perhaps; but I began it. Now I know better. There is no easy solution to evil, Suzue, except to fight it. That applies to you and your church, too. If you value your beliefs, you need to be prepared to fight for them._»

Suzue thought about that. Then she nodded. "We will," she vowed. "We do."

«_Good, then._» Serenity looked down on her, smiled, and reached out to touch her cheek gently, a ghostly touch that left a tingling sensation in its wake. «_Yes, I think you will do well. You remind me of Haruka, a little. You both seek absolutes…and you're both not afraid to do what you have to do, to find them. Only beware, my faithful Suzue, of what that might lead you into. Remember that the ends never justify the means—never. That's something that I think Haruka couldn't truly understand._»

Suzue knelt once more, her eyes never leaving the golden queen's face. "Yes, your majesty. I'll try."

The queen smiled back down at her. «_Then I can ask no more._»

Suzue smiled in return.

- - -

Itsuko watched, a little bemused at first, as six silent conversations took place before her, one after another. It took her a while to notice that as each girl spoke with Serenity, all the others were frozen in place. It was strange, and rather funny, to see. She wondered how long it would last; and she wondered why she was not being frozen with the rest of them.

Then she noticed something else, and her blood began to boil.

By the time the last girl froze back in place and the luminous eyes of the queen turned to her at last, she was as angry as she'd ever been with Serenity…or Usagi. She barely even noticed as all sound in the room around her took on a curiously flat, anechoic quality. She strode forward to face the queen, and let her rage spill over.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" she demanded.

«_Rei-chan,_» said Serenity.

"Don't call me that, damn you! Don't you try to soothe me! Just answer the question. Look at her! You talked to her and she's all smiling, happy. She called you her goddess and _you didn't deny it, did you_?"

«_No, Rei-chan. I didn't._»

The plain, unvarnished answer almost brought Itsuko to a stop. There was none of the evasiveness or guilt that she had expected; just a simple agreement. As if…Serenity had expected this confrontation.

"_Why_?" she hissed.

«_I'm sorry, Rei-chan; I know you don't approve. But there were many reasons. Perhaps the biggest is that I am not certain that she would have believed me._»

Itsuko stared. "…What?" she said stupidly. Then her eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? You're her fucking goddess and you think she wouldn't _believe_ you?"

«_She didn't believe __you_,» the queen pointed out. «_Rei-chan, Suzue is an intelligent girl who has been brought up in a very unpopular belief system. She has gone through a great deal of hardship for her beliefs—more than you may know. She has certainly thought about whether those beliefs might be wrong, many times. This isn't just something she's been taught; it's a faith she has __chosen_ to keep. I'd have thought you would understand the strength of that.» She hesitated and added, «_Suppose a Jew encountered a burning bush that spoke to him and told him that everything he believed was wrong, and he should go and become a Buddhist instead. Do you think he'd believe it? Or would he think it was a trick?_»

"Well of course he—" Itsuko broke off. "Damn it, it's not the same!"

«_Isn't it?_» Serenity smiled. «_As you wish. Let me suggest another reason, then. Supposing I did convince her that she was wrong. How do you think she would feel?_»

"I don't _care_," Itsuko muttered sullenly. "Oh…she'd be upset, I suppose. Angry, maybe."

«_Betrayed, I think, might be closer. Rei-chan, what would she do?_» The queen paused for a moment, but then went on before Itsuko could answer. «_Do you think she could go on being a Senshi? Continue working with a group who were a living reminder of the mockery her life has been? Could she really do that? Or would she leave?_»

"I…don't know," Itsuko admitted. She bit her lip. "She…might stay. She knows how important this is."

«_Yes. She might. But I think it would poison her, even so. Whether she could overcome that…I don't know. It's a hard thing to ask._»

The queen fell silent, her eyes on Itsuko calm and unyielding. Itsuko tried to glare back, but in the end she found that she could not. She looked away, grimacing, and sighed. "Is that all?" she grumbled.

«_Not quite. It's just a feeling I have, Rei-chan…that somehow, for some reason, in the time to come she is going to __need_ her faith. Why, or how, I don't know. I can't see the future. But I believe that things happen for a reason…and that means there's a reason that Suzue is who, and what, she is. And who am I to meddle with that?»

Itsuko shook her head. "But she _worships_ you, Usagi-chan. She thinks you're a goddess! How can that be right? How can you _stand_ it?"

«_By realising that what she and her church are doing has no effect on __me_ at all. It affects only them…and the effect is not altogether a bad one. Genuine faith seldom is.»

"That's not—"

«_And by looking at what __else_ Suzue is…and seeing that, regardless of what she believes, she is not unworthy.» Serenity gave her a crooked smile. «_She __is_ an intelligent girl, Rei-chan. She's been thrust into the middle of a great adventure that's a direct extension of everything she believes in, and she's surrounded by people who are the stuff of her legends. What do _you_ think is going to happen? I think that, in the end, she'll understand the truth.»

"When…" Itsuko gave her a quizzical look. "This isn't you. When did you become such a deep thinker?"

Serenity laughed. «_I've had a long, long time, with nothing else to do but think. No TV to watch…no manga to read…_» She winked.

"Oh, you." But Itsuko found herself smiling back. "So what _did_ you tell her, then?"

«_I gave her…what she was able to accept. Let it rest there, Rei-chan. If you want more, ask her yourself. For now, there are other things we need to discuss._»

Serenity paused, and gave Itsuko an unexpectedly piercing look. At the same time, almost imperceptibly, something seemed to change in the room about them. But Itsuko had no time to try to analyse it, for the queen went on at once. «_It's nearly time for me to leave, Rei-chan._»

"What? But—"

Itsuko broke off in dismay. For all her sardonic comments about how deep the queen had become, still this short time had been like the old days all over again: arguing, laughing, making up—rediscovering the joy of each other's company. And it was nearly _over_?

She groped for words, but nothing came. "No," she said. "You can't go!"

«_I can't stay. Appearing for this long has been difficult, and I won't have the energy to do it again for a long time. But even apart from that…sooner or later, I have to go. You know that._»

"But I—" Something was happening inside her. A soft, insistent pain in her chest; a lump in her throat. Her breath, quickening. The room, the entire world seemed to be rushing away from her. All that was left was Serenity. Golden hair and odango. Golden crescent moon on her forehead. And the smile, the warm golden smile that had warmed her, filled her life for centuries.

"No! You can't leave again _now_! Not so soon! Not when—" Her voice cracked. "Not when I haven't said—said—"

«_Yes?_»

"I—"

«_Just say it, Rei-chan. Just say it._»

"Oh, gods," she whispered. "Don't go, Usagi-chan. I need you. I—" Almost, she could not continue—but then she looked up, into the eyes of the queen…and at last, after so long, she finally managed to say the words. "I love you."

«_Oh, Rei-chan. Dearest Rei. That was so hard for you, wasn't it?_» Serenity took a step forward, reached a hand up to touch Itsuko's forehead. Itsuko felt nothing; but suddenly her legs would not support her and she fell to her knees. Dimly, she realised that she was crying.

«_Rei-chan…don't you think it's about time you grew up?_»

Itsuko did not understand at once. Then the words sunk in, and hit her as if she had been slapped on the cheek. Her head snapped up in shock.

"…What?"

«_I'm dead, Rei-chan; I've been dead for seven hundred years. And all this time, you've been pining for me?_» The warmth in Serenity's eyes had disappeared; in its place was a deep, pitying sadness. «_Waiting patiently, clinging to a few precious remnants of the past, and hoping I'd find a way to come back and make it all better. 'Keeping faith'—is that what you called it? For seven hundred and twenty-two years?_» She shook her head. «_How can you do that to yourself? It's grotesque!_»

"But—"

«_Meanwhile, you cut yourself off from the world. Always moving on, always hiding, never letting anybody get close to you because your eyes are fixed so firmly on the past that you haven't got any time for the future at all. No wonder you stopped seeing visions for so long! I'm surprised the sacred fire didn't reject you completely._»

"No," Itsuko protested feebly. "It's not like that!"

«_Then what is it like?_» the queen insisted. «_Tell me, Rei-chan; tell me what you've been doing with your life. Tell me your plans. Your hopes. Your dreams. You used to have big dreams, Rei-chan; do you remember? Of helping people, at your temple. Of being a singer. Instead you hide yourself away in this…this gymnasium of yours; you run the occasional aerobics class and try to pretend you're happy. Is that what you wanted, when you were young?_»

That was too much. "Of _course_ it isn't!" Itsuko exploded. "Damn it, _you_ know what happened! I lost the temple and everything else when I became your Senshi. You—you took them all away, all my dreams…you didn't leave me _room_ for anything else!"

«_Nothing except your precious fire; you held onto that. I even helped, a little, because I thought it would make you happy. But that's over now, isn't it? You're not a Senshi any longer. You're free now; you have been for centuries, free again to follow any dream you choose. So what have you done, Rei-chan? What dreams have you followed?_»

Itsuko closed her eyes. Her anger had already faded, replaced by a deep, centuries-old weariness. "_This_ dream," she said sadly. "The dream that it might all start again; that the enemy might return, and the Senshi come back to fight him…and that I might be able to help somehow. And that someday I might even see your face again."

Slowly, a little heat came back into her words. "And yes, I call that 'keeping faith'…and am I so wrong?"

«_But is it enough for you?_»

"What?"

«_Is it enough to satisfy you? To fulfil your life? Rei-chan, is it enough to make you happy?_»

Again, Itsuko did not reply. She could not. The moment stretched on and on; she struggled with herself, trying to find an answer—any answer, anything to fill the silence and the yawning void that seemed to have opened up inside her. The pain was back, worse than ever. At last, almost inaudibly, she whispered, "No."

«_Then what is it you do want?_»

"I…" She felt as if she were suffocating. Her breath was coming in short gasps. "I want…"

And then, with a burst of grief, she had it. "I just want to be with you again. Oh, gods, Usagi-chan, I've missed you so much! And it's been so long, and—and I'm so tired of living, and I don't want to be alone any more…"

And she fell to the floor at the queen's feet, and wept.

Serenity watched her for a time. Then, slowly, she bent down until she was kneeling, her face at the same level as Itsuko's. Very, very softly, she said, «_I can't come back, Rei-chan. I'm sorry. It's just not possible._» And then: «_But you can be with me again if you want._»

Itsuko looked up with sudden, incredulous hope. "How?"

«_I think you know how._»

She gazed into the queen's face for a moment that seemed to last forever. Then she said, "What do I have to do?"

Serenity held out a hand, palm-up. «_Just reach out and take my hand,_» she said gently. «_Your immortality will be over, and you will join me here in the heart of the Ginzuishou._»

"…Forever?"

«_For as long as we have._»

Itsuko hesitated. "And—and what will happen to the others? Mako-chan? The other Senshi?"

«_That won't be your concern any more. They will have to do without you._»

She squeezed her eyes shut. A few last tears ran down her cheek. Her fists were clenched on her knees. Patiently, the queen waited for her to answer; the outstretched hand never wavered.

Sadly, she said, "I can't do it, can I?"

«_Oh?_»

"I can't leave them. I can't just…walk away." She tried to smile up at Serenity. "Oh, I know they don't really need me. It's their world now and I shouldn't begrudge them that. But I still…I still think I can do something. I might be able to help. And—" She shook her head, her mouth twisting in bitter resignation. "I've come this far. I'd…kind of like to see it through."

The queen smiled back, and with one flowing motion she stood once more. Itsuko followed her. «_Rei-chan—I'm so proud of you,_» Serenity said. «_Promise me, then. Promise me that you won't keep shutting yourself away. When all this is over, move on. Grow. Start to live your life again. Look ahead of you, instead of behind. Will you?_»

"I'll try," Itsuko promised, and sniffed. Her nose was running, for some reason.

«_All right._» The golden queen regarded her with affection…and evident approval. «_Then there are only two things left for me to say,_» she told her. «_The first is 'good-bye.' We may meet again, once, before this is all over, but I don't think we'll have a chance to talk. Good-bye, my precious Rei-chan; be well, and be happy._»

Itsuko nodded. "I love you," she said quietly.

«_I love you, too. You've always known that, haven't you?_»

"…Yes. Yes."

«_Good. And…when you see Mamo-chan again, give him a message from me. Please? It would be best, coming from you._» Serenity smiled fondly. «_Tell him I love him…and that he should move on. We'll be together again in the end—and I can wait._»

"Mam—Wait, you're saying that Tux—?"

«_Hush. The second thing I have to tell you, Rei-chan…is your punishment. For selfishness. For shutting the world out, and hiding from yourself for all these years._»

Itsuko's eyes widened. "Uh—now wait a minute—" she began, but the queen continued remorselessly.

«_You remember that while I spoke to each of the girls, the rest were frozen? Well, your punishment is this: I unfroze them all several minutes ago. They've heard everything you and I have said since then._»

"—WHAT?!"

«_Good-bye, Rei-chan. Good-bye, Mako-chan. And all of you. I love you all; remember that. Always…_»

As she spoke, Serenity began to glow once more. Swiftly the light became brighter and brighter, until they had to shield their eyes. With a final, sudden flash, she was gone. For a second or two, Itsuko thought she could see a faint afterimage, like a golden crescent moon. Then nothing.

Night returned. The room was left in darkness, with only a faint glow of streetlights from the window, and a thin thread of fire-light from the open secret door. Then suddenly, with an audible click, the ceiling lights flickered and switched themselves on. In the distant background, the air-conditioning rumbled back to life.

Itsuko turned to face the others.

Most of them were staring at her, wide-eyed. Itsuko opened her mouth and closed it again, several times. She had, quite simply, no idea what to say. Never, in all her life, had she felt so…naked. She wanted to run and hide her face in shame.

Then Miyo solved her dilemma for her. The tall girl came forward and, without a word, wrapped her arms around Itsuko and held her.

In another moment, the others were there too. Embracing her. Holding her, and each other. She almost felt like crying again, but she did not. She felt…happy. Somehow, she knew, in spite of everything, it was all going to be all right.

- - -

"What do we do now?" asked Beth at last.

"Go back to bed?" suggested Dhiti hopefully.

Miyo rapped her on the head with her knuckles. "Hush, you," she said. "Itsuko—uh, there are some things we need to take care of."

The white-haired woman did not answer at once; her eyes were far away, lost in some private remembrance. Then, abruptly, she shook herself. "What?" she said. "Oh. Yes. What did you have in mind?"

"Well…while we're here, I was thinking you and I might want to collect some belongings."

"Good idea," put in Dhiti. "After all, you wouldn't want to have to break in and steal them later." Miyo rapped her on the head again. "Ow. Actually, I was thinking of something, too, Itsuko-san. Where do you keep your customer records for the gymnasium? Are they in those filing cabinets?"

Itsuko gave her an incredulous look. "What do you want with customer records? No, of course they're not. They're on the computer." She pointed to her overturned desk, and the equipment that had been strewn across to the floor.

"Oh, great. Computers again," Dhiti muttered. "Well, maybe I can get this thing to connect to your network." She pulled her Mercury Computer out of thin air and started to tap at it, frowning.

"But what are you _doing_?"

Dhiti glanced up for a moment, raising one eyebrow. "Looking up the home address for one of your customers. A guy named Keenan Liam. I don't think we'd better talk to him at school; it might get awkward."

"Ah," said Miyo in sudden understanding. "Good idea. But we could just have asked Kin, you know."

"You sure you want to tell _her_ why we're asking?"

"Why _are_ you asking?" insisted Itsuko testily. "Who's this Keenan?"

Miyo glanced around the room and saw that the other girls were listening avidly. She shrugged and said, "A boy in our class at school. He's Tuxedo Kamen, Itsuko. Almost certainly." After a moment she added, "And I'm pretty sure he doesn't know it."

Itsuko sighed. "The Moonlight Knight, all over again. Wonderful."

"Did you say Tuxedo Kamen?" interrupted Ochiyo, grinning. "Good! I was hoping I'd be able to see him again. Hey, Itsuko-san, did I tell you, I think he must be my secret admirer? You know, the one who kept on giving me flowers? Because—"

"Oh, damn," Itsuko said, as several pieces clicked together in her mind. "Of course he is. Let me guess: when there was trouble, he'd go to defend you, find you were perfectly safe, and just leave you a bunch of roses instead. Why didn't I think of that before?"

Ochiyo blinked. "Okay, if you say so. But if he's supposed to be my destined boyfriend, I think I should—"

Itsuko smiled at her, a little maliciously. "You, er, do remember what Serenity said? That he isn't actually supposed to be _your_ boyfriend? He's actually Chiba Mamoru, reborn?"

Ochiyo looked at her in stunned silence. Then her face screwed up in disgust. "Oh, yuck!" she wailed. "You mean I've been kissing my own _father_? That's…that's so gross!"

Suzue's eyes bulged. Beth began to snicker.

"And he used _tongue_!"

Dhiti, too, started to chortle. Miyo raised one hand to hide a grin. Iku looked horrified.

"If it's any comfort," Itsuko added on a conciliatory note, "he probably had no idea who he was really kissing."

Ochiyo paused from frantically scrubbing at her lips, and fixed her with a frosty look. "That," she said, "may just be worse."

- - -

"So, tell me about revenge," said Dhiti.

Ochiyo looked up in surprise. She was holding a large plastic bag open as Miyo dumped armfuls of clothing into it. In the next room, they could hear Itsuko muttering to herself as she rummaged through her own belongings. "Revenge?" said Ochiyo, baffled.

"You said it poisons you. The way you were talking, it sounded like you had personal experience."

"Ah." Ochiyo frowned. Her face, normally so round and open, became cool and distant. "I suppose I have," she said.

Miyo looked over her shoulder. "Is it something you don't want to talk about?" she asked. "Because—"

"No, no. It's just that I've never told anyone about this before. It's not something I'm proud of." Ochiyo paused, her expression thoughtful. "Well. It was a few years ago, I suppose, at a party. My birthday party, actually—"

"Oh? And when is your birthday, Aizawa-san?" came a challenging voice from the doorway. "June, perhaps?"

Ochiyo looked up and smiled. "No, Itagaki-san. Not June 30th," she said. "September, actually. The 25th." At the door, Suzue subsided, abashed. She stayed to listen, though.

"Anyway," Ochiyo went on. "My parents had organised a party game—a treasure hunt; you know the sort of thing. All sorts of prizes, hidden around our back yard. But it turned out that my best friend, who lived next door, saw my mom hiding all the prizes; so when the game started, she knew exactly where to go."

Dhiti wrinkled her brow. "Wait a minute. How old were you?"

"Seven. Anyway, when I found out, I poured a cup of lemonade over her head. She cried and cried, and her party dress was _ruined_. My mother was furious." Ochiyo shook her head sadly. "I had to go without any birthday cake."

Miyo seemed to choke. She turned her back hastily and coughed into her hand, several times.

Meanwhile, Dhiti stared at Ochiyo. "And…this is why you say revenge is poisonous?"

"What, are you serious? It was my _birthday_, and I had to go without _cake_!"

"Just checking." Dhiti shook her head in wonder. "Wow. And for this, I passed up blowing that guy's head off."

She thought about it, and began to laugh softly. The sound finally broke Miyo's self-control; she coughed once more, then gave up, collapsed backward onto the bed, and started to laugh too. Suzue, still watching from the door, groaned and held her head in her hands.

Ochiyo looked at them all. "Well, I thought it was significant!" she protested.

Dhiti calmed down and sighed. "What the hell. Maybe you're right, Ochiyo-chan. One reason is probably as good as another." She gave the girl a sly look. "And cake is pretty important, after all."

"Right!" Ochiyo nodded happily.

"What's that about cake?" came a voice from behind Suzue. They looked around, to see Beth hovering at the door. "What are you all laughing about?"

"A lesson in applied philosophy," said Dhiti.

"Oh. One of _those_." She wrinkled her nose, then glanced around the room in a quick, almost furtive way. Then she stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind her. "Um," she said.

"Uh-_huh_," said Miyo, a little amused by the show. "Something on your mind, Beth-chan?"

"No! I just heard you and I wondered, ah, what you were doing, and I just…" She faltered to a stop, biting her lip. At her side, unconsciously, her left hand traced quick, nervous patterns in the air.

"Just say it," Ochiyo suggested.

Beth visibly wavered, then took the plunge. "I…was thinking about what Itsuko-san said," she admitted. "To the queen. Um…about how she—she—"

"Ah," murmured Ochiyo.

"It was common knowledge in Crystal Tokyo," said Miyo quietly. "We didn't talk about it, but we all knew."

Suzue stared at her. "You—really?"

"Yeah. Look, the rest of us went all over the world—all over the solar system; heck, a couple of times even to other stars. Keeping things running smoothly, fighting bad guys, acting as ambassadors for Serenity…you know the sort of thing. But not her. She was the one who always stayed with the queen. Oh, there were a few times when she got sent out—she had quite the reputation; no-one wanted to tangle with her. But we could tell; she was always unhappy at being away from Queen Serenity."

Across the room, Dhiti saw Ochiyo listening, her eyes wide. The girl had coped quite well, all things considered, with being told exactly who Itsuko and Miyo were. All the same, hearing personal memories of another age was enough to throw anyone. It still gave Dhiti a thrill, knowing that her friend had been there.

This topic, on the other hand, was a little uncomfortable. Dhiti was not quite sure what she thought about Itsuko's confession of love; but she was reasonably certain that now was not the time for a wisecrack.

"Wow," said Beth quietly. "All those centuries."

"I don't think it was ever, uh, consummated, if that's what you're wondering," Miyo added in a low voice. "I mean, I doubt that Rei-chan ever said anything to the queen, and I'm pretty sure Serenity wouldn't have—"

"But she said she loved Itsuko-san, too," said Beth.

Miyo paused, and gave her a long, careful look. "Does the idea bother you?"

"What? No!" But a moment later, softer, Beth said, "Yes." And then, even more quietly: "I don't know. I don't know what to think."

They were silent for a moment. Then, just as softly, Suzue admitted, "Neither do I. I keep telling myself, 'this changes everything'…but then I think, why should it? Why should anything be different? Itsuko-san is still the same person we knew yesterday. And yet I look at her and somehow, it _is_ different. I think—" She paused, then said, "I think perhaps I like her better for it."

"It makes her more human?" suggested Ochiyo.

"Yes! You understand." Suzue gave her an odd look, then repeated thoughtfully, "You do understand."

"But they're both _women_," Beth protested. "It's…it's weird."

Miyo grinned. "You obviously never met Haruka and Michiru."

"Who?"

"Oh, come on! You must—" Miyo broke off, and stared at her. "You really don't know—?"

"They aren't in the 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi' anime," explained Dhiti, and Miyo gave a short bark of laughter.

"How can you not know who they were?" asked Suzue, looking faintly disgusted. "Don't you study history at _all_? And that…that _anime_…is the most disgraceful, ludicrous piece of trash—"

"Oh, no, it's great!" protested Beth.

"Yeah, it's not bad, in a goofy kind of way," added Dhiti.

"It's pretty funny, actually," put in Miyo.

"I like it," said Ochiyo.

Suzue stared at them all, horrified. "Oh, Blessed Lady, please don't tell me I'm going to have to start watching it," she muttered.

Dhiti patted her on the shoulder. "There, there," she said. "It's all right. You can keep on watching nice, safe documentaries about earthworms. We don't mind."

Without thinking, Suzue reached up and took Dhiti's hand in both of hers. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Miyo cleared her throat. "_Anyway_," she said, suppressing a grin. "Getting back to Itsuko…or, well, Rei. Look, we all knew she was in love with the queen. It was pretty obvious, to be honest. But they were both of them perfectly happy, so what was the harm?"

"Hey, it doesn't worry me," said Dhiti. Well, not much, anyway.

"Yeah, being invaded by Mongol hordes wouldn't worry you, Dhiti-chan. Still, we didn't see any reason to trumpet it about back then, and I don't think we need to now, either—okay? Actually, it's probably a good idea if she doesn't find out we've been talking about her, if you catch my meaning. She can be pretty cranky—"

"She also," said Itsuko from the door, "has pretty good ears."

They all looked around, startled. Beth muttered, "Whoops."

"While it is certainly pleasant to know that you all care about me so much that you feel the need to discuss my love life behind my back—"

"It wasn't like that," protested Miyo.

"Wasn't it?"

Miyo fell silent.

"It's especially interesting to hear that my sexual preferences were a matter for gossip back in Crystal Tokyo. I bet Minako-chan got a good laugh out of that one, huh? Or maybe Haruka-chan?"

"No," said Miyo quietly. "Nobody laughed at you."

"Oh? Well, that's comforting, isn't it?" Itsuko shook her head. "I really don't know what's worse: that you're gossiping about me…or just how ridiculously wrong you are, if you think I was in love with Serenity."

"Uh—"

Suzue said diffidently, "Excuse me, but we quite definitely heard you tell the queen—"

"I know what I said," Itsuko snapped, cutting Suzue off. She glared around at the girls. "Damn that woman!" she muttered. "This is probably her idea of a joke. I bet she's laughing her fool head off, wherever she is…" She pursed her lips, then shook her head and took a deep breath. "All right. If you're so damn curious, I'll tell you.

"There was never the slightest possibility of a sexual relationship between her majesty Tsukino Usagi, Neo-Queen Serenity, and myself…because the queen is and always was one hundred percent heterosexual." She fixed Miyo with a piercing glare. "And so am I. Is that clear enough for you?"

Miyo flinched back half a step under that glare, unable for a moment to reply—and with no idea of what she might have said, anyway.

"Yes, I loved her. Of _course_ I did. But, Kino Makoto, are you going to tell me that you _didn't_? Or Minako-chan? Or Ami-chan?"

"I—well—of course I did!" protested Miyo feebly. "But…well, not—"

"'Not like that.' Really." Itsuko have her a sardonic look, her lip curling. "But of course Rei-chan was different, because everyone knew there had to be _something_ there; after all, she was the weird one, with her sacred fire and her temple and all that rubbish…" She broke off, snorting. And then, shockingly, she let it all go; she dropped her anger like a glove. She stood facing them all, her body taut with passion, and while the intensity in her eyes grew no less, the bitter sarcasm in her voice was gone. "Yes, Mako-chan, I loved her. I still love her. I would have died for her; I would have given her my soul, if she'd needed it. I gave up my life, my hopes and my dreams to be her Senshi, and I never regretted it—because _she_ became all my hopes and my dreams. She became the centre of my life. So is it really so surprising—is it so hard to believe—that I wanted to be there? To be near her?

"To be near her, Mako-chan. Not to have sex with her."

She flicked her eyes around the group of girls, her face quiet and composed. "And then she died. She went away, and she took my heart and soul with her, and left me empty. And so I waited. I waited, all those dark and lonely centuries, because what else could ever fill the hole she left? There was nothing left for me, nothing…so I nursed the sacred fire, and I found things to do to pass the time—and I waited."

She paused; and when she went on, for just a moment, her voice broke. "And I gave up. Somewhere along the way I stopped believing that she'd return. I told myself that this would be forever: this grey, empty feeling. And I thought about ending it all."

Almost in a whisper, Miyo asked, "Why didn't you?"

"Because somebody had to stand watch. We couldn't be sure—Artemis and I—that the enemy was gone. The crystites might have crumbled to dust after she died, but neither of us believed that the true evil was gone. Somebody needed to survive: to remember, and to be ready to give the warning, if it began again. Everything else might have been gone for me, but there was still that. One last duty to perform, one more thing I could do for her."

She shook her head, her eyes cast down. "And I suppose, if I'm honest, that sometimes I saw it as my penance. I couldn't die for her, in the end…so what else was there to do but live?"

"Oh, Rei-chan." Miyo stepped forward and made to hug her; but Itsuko shrugged her arms away, looking up into her eyes with a sad, weary expression.

"And now she's back," she said. "Just for a few moments she comes back, and lets me hope that everything will be all right again…and then she tells me good-bye, and orders me to move on, and build a new life without her." Her voice sank down to a whisper. "It's hard, Mako-chan. It's very hard."

"She believes you can do it, though. She thinks you can be happy again. That has to count for something, doesn't it?" Miyo touched her lightly on the shoulder. "She wants you to live, Itsuko. So live."

"So live," Itsuko echoed.

She closed her eyes and stood for a minute, scarcely seeming to breathe. Then, at last, she opened them once more and looked around the room. They all looked back at her: Ochiyo, Suzue, Dhiti, Beth, Miyo. Only Iku was absent, still in the next room.

"All right, then," she said. Her eyes were dry. "All right. So we'll live. In that case, we've still got a lot to do, haven't we? Have you finished packing yet?"

The tall girl smiled back at her. "Nearly."

"Well, get a move on. What are you all standing round for?" She went to the door and started to go out; but then she paused. "Oh—and listen, let's have no more of this 'Rei' and 'Itsuko,' all right? I have a new name now—and so do you, for that matter. It's time we started remembering them, or we'll have bloody 'S' Division breathing down our necks again."

She glanced around the room one last time, addressing them all. "My name is Hiyama Seki. And she is Hiyama Makoto. Try and remember, huh?"

Then she was gone.

- - -

A little later they were ready to leave, and gathered back in the office. Makoto had filled two bags with clothes and books; she had, regretfully, bid her plants goodbye. Seki had a pair of massive, heavy-duty suitcases.

All the girls except Ochiyo changed back to their Senshi forms, ready to leave. (Dhiti ducked into the bathroom to remove her borrowed yukata, and changed in private. The rest of them pretended not to notice, and exchanged grins.)

When it came to Makoto's turn, she hesitated, looking uneasy. Seki shot her a curious glance, and the girl grimaced. Seki suddenly realised what the problem was; but before she could speak, Makoto produced her henshin wand and spoke her transformation phrase. The change to Senshi form left her pale and shaken all over again, and Seki hurried to support her, cursing herself for not thinking. Sailor Jupiter waved her away, though. Now that she had changed, the colour did seem to be coming back to her face faster, and she stood more confidently.

Once they were all finished, Seki looked around the office, made a wry face, and said, "So. One last thing to do."

She pulled the secret door wide open and started to go through. Then she paused and looked back at the girls. "You can come in, if you want. I don't think that—" She broke off suddenly. "Dhiti-chan, you're a Hindu? And—" Her eyes rested for a moment on Sailor Venus, then Uranus, and then moved away. Mercury nodded, her eyebrows raised; Uranus remained utterly still. Venus only looked confused. Seki paused a moment longer, then said, "All right. Come in, if you wish. Be careful; it will be rather cramped."

The Senshi followed her curiously. The hidden room was small, no more than two by three metres, and panelled with dark wood. Heavy straw ropes, shimenawa, lined the tops of the walls; from them hung gohei, zigzag paper streamers. A narrow shelf inside the door held a neatly-folded pile of clothing: chihaya and hibakama, the traditional garments of a miko. Seki hesitated as she passed, reaching out to touch them, and then shook her head and moved on. Another shelf held a pitcher of water and a bowl. She washed her hands and rinsed her mouth using a little wooden dipper, then dried her hands carefully.

At the end of the room was the altar and the sacred fire. The altar was low and broad, perhaps fifty centimetres high; it was built of a rich, light-coloured wood, set on a base of dark, polished stone. Slender wooden wands stood upright at the four corners of the altar; from them hung more gohei. And in the centre was a shallow depression in which danced the fire itself, small but bright.

Seki knelt before the altar in one smooth, flowing movement. She bowed deeply, then sat upright, breathing slowly and regularly. Then she began the kuji-in, the ritual to focus the mind, the will and the psychic senses: the recitation of the nine sacred syllables, with their accompanying inzou, or gestures. "Rin, pyou, tou, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai, zen!"

For a moment the room was utterly silent. Then, with a sudden rushing sound, the fire blazed higher. The colour of the flames changed, becoming a rich gold. Again, Seki bowed low.

She rose quietly and went to the rear of the room. The Senshi clustered back out of her way as she picked up a ceramic firepot and placed three sticks of dense, slow-burning fuel in the bottom. Then she returned to the altar, bowed a third time, and lit a taper from the sacred fire. She used this to light the fuel in the firepot.

When she was satisfied that it was burning steadily, she laid the pot down and sat facing the altar for a moment, eyes closed. Then she leaned forward and blew softly.

It should not have been enough to do more than make the flames gutter. But at the touch of her breath, the fire went out—instantly.

The room became very dark, lit only by the light coming from the door to the office, and a faint glow from the firepot. In the shadows, the Senshi dimly saw Seki half-rise and reach behind the altar for a moment. A faint hissing sound, so soft that it was unnoticeable until it ended, suddenly stopped. Seki picked up the firepot, stood, and turned toward the exit. There was a jam at the door as everyone tried to get out at once, but a few seconds later they were all standing in the office once more, blinking.

Seki set the firepot down, stifling a yawn. It was very late, and she'd had almost no sleep the night before, either. And now she had to install the sacred fire at her new house, and that would take some time, with the necessary ritual purifications on top of everything else…But that could wait until morning. The fuel in her firepot would last that long. She could afford to relax a little now.

"All right," she said, and yawned again. "I'm finished. Thank you all—thank you very much, and not just for saving me. We will have to talk again, soon, about what comes next, now that we have our new Moon Princess." She glanced at Ochiyo and saw the girl colour faintly. "But right now…I think we could all use some sleep, hmm?" Several of the Senshi nodded, and the group began to break apart as they said quiet good-byes. "Mako-chan, I left the car a couple of blocks away—unless you'd rather go on foot."

Jupiter shook her head with a wry grin. In a low voice she said, "My legs still feel like toffee, to be honest. Sitting down on the way home sounds good…"

"All right. Let's head down, then. Oh—wait a moment." Seki looked around, then walked across the room. A twisted, crumpled metallic object lay on the floor near the outer door. She picked it up and returned to Jupiter's side, tossing the object to the girl. "Souvenir," she said with a wry smile.

Jupiter stared at it, uncomprehending, for a few seconds. Then her eyes widened. "It's that…thing they hit me with, isn't it? I never did see it; just a cold touch on my neck, before—" She broke off, her lip curling. "What _is_ it? What happened to it?"

Seki's smile faded. "They never gave it a name. That man Hiiro said it was a prototype from 'M' Division—though I'm not sure why a maintenance and supply office would be making anti-Senshi devices." She frowned. "That _is_ odd, now I think of it. One of those vitrimorphs took it off the agent woman and crushed it. That's odd, too…"

"'M' Division? Again?" Jupiter rubbed her chin. "Huh. It was an 'M' Division Opal at the warehouse yard, a couple of weeks ago. Or, well, they said they were Sankaku in disguise, but—This doesn't make any sense." She turned the ruined device over in her hands idly, then paused, looking more closely. "There _is_ an 'M' Division logo on it."

"So? Hiiro was telling the truth." But Seki's voice trailed off uncertainly. Jupiter was right; there _was_ something strange about what had happened. Sankaku masquerading as 'M' Division agents was one thing, but now an actual 'M' Division link?

Jupiter had her eyes closed in concentration. "Why would they even make something like this, anyway? I'd have thought it would come from 'K' Division; after all, they fund all the research institutes." She rubbed her temple. "Why does that sound so…? Damn it, I _know_ I'm forgetting something—

"Oh."

Her eyes snapped open. At last, after so long, she had it—and it was worse than she could ever have dreamed. "Oh, _no_," she said. "DHITI!"

Across the room, Sailor Mercury was chatting amiably with Mars—or rather, she was talking, and Mars was listening, as usual. They both looked up at Jupiter's call, and Mercury jogged over. "What's up?"

"Your computer—it has a network link, right? You can access the public net?"

"Well…sure. But what—"

"I need you to run a search for me. See if you can find a picture of someone, will you? A woman named—oh, what was it? Araki. Araki…Mamiko, I think."

"Um. Okay." Mercury opened her computer obediently and started to type, occasionally cursing under her breath. "What's this about, Hayashi? She owe you money?"

"She owes me," said Jupiter grimly. "But not that."

"Hmph. Someone needs a hug. Ah, here we are…Oh, shit."

The tiny screen lit up with a picture. The woman in the news photograph was standing in the middle of a group of men, smiling and shaking hands. She wore a smart, expensive suit that did nothing to hide her femininity. She looked every inch the successful businesswoman. She also looked very familiar.

"Lady Blue," Mercury whispered. "Well, well, well."

"Lady Blue, hell," snapped Jupiter. "That's Araki Mamiko. Don't you know who she is? Only Number Twelve of the goddamn _Serenity Council_!"

The other Senshi, attracted by the sudden commotion, had begun to drift over to see what was happening. At Jupiter's pronouncement they froze, suddenly silent. Then there was a rush to look over Mercury's shoulder; and an almost universal gasp as Jupiter explained what they had worked out.

Ochiyo's voice cut through the babble of voices. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Jupiter confirmed, her words and her expression bitter. "Damn it, I _knew_ I recognised her from somewhere. The damn viddy!"

"But this means—" Venus broke off. "What does this mean?"

"Trouble, that's what," answered Uranus grimly. "She cannot possibly be doing this alone."

"No," said Jupiter with a sigh. "No, I'm afraid you're probably right."

"Well, you've lost _me_," complained Venus.

"They've infiltrated the government," said Uranus. "They must have. Think about it: 'M' Division, secretly making anti-Senshi devices and doing whatever they were doing at the warehouse. 'S' Division, attacking us here tonight…bringing _vitrimorphs_ with them!"

"And even that Opal that followed us through the city, a while back," said Venus thoughtfully. "I'd almost forgotten about that…hey, wait a minute. Those 'S' Division guys didn't bring the vitrimorphs tonight. They were _fighting_ them."

"That's true," said Jupiter thoughtfully. "One of them actually told me to stay down, and he'd defend me. Strange…hey, Seki, did they say anything? Anything that might give us a clue?"

Seki had listened as they put the pieces together. Sadako had made her promise not to tell the girls everything, and intellectually, she even agreed. In her heart, it was another story. It was time the girls started to realise who they were facing; but they did need to work it out for themselves, Sadako was right about that. So Seki had given them a little nudge…and now she was surprised in return. It seemed that even Sadako did not know everything. The involvement of Number Twelve, neither of them had suspected.

Meanwhile, how much to answer? "No," she said truthfully. But then she remembered. "No, wait. Those men, the vitrimorphs. Before they changed, they showed Hiiro some kind of ID, and it surprised him. He…he said it was government ID."

There was a long, chilled silence. Mercury said, "I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

"You, too?" asked Jupiter dryly. "How much of the government are we fighting here?!"

Uranus rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment. "Let me think. We know the enemy has connections to 'M' Division. And 'K' Division, of course. They don't seem to control 'S' Division, though. There may be two factions here."

"Hold on," said Ochiyo. "My head is spinning. _'K'_ Division?"

Jupiter said, "'K' Division—the Science and Technology department of the government—is the portfolio of Number Twelve of the Serenity Council." Her face twisted, and she almost spat out, "In other words, Lady Blue is running it."

"And who is Lady Blue?"

They told Ochiyo who Lady Blue was.

"So," said Ochiyo thoughtfully as she took it all in. "An interesting task we're left with, yes?"

Seki snorted. "That's putting it mildly. You could be right about those two factions, Suzue-chan. That might be why that vitrimorph took the anti-Senshi device from the 'S' Division woman. They'd borrowed it from 'M' Division, and of course the enemy wanted their anti-Senshi prototype back."

A little reluctantly, Uranus said, "It almost looks like 'S' Division didn't know what they were up against. Perhaps the lower-downs aren't privy to what's really going on…"

"No, wait," said Mercury suddenly. Her computer was still open, and she was tapping quickly at the little keyboard. "You're all missing something."

Jupiter looked around quickly. "What?"

"You were talking about how this Araki runs 'K' Division. But we know that 'M' Division is involved too—probably even more so. Hayashi…who runs 'M' Division?"

"Uh…well—"

Her voice toneless, almost completely flat, Uranus said, "'M' Division is a very minor government portfolio. Normally it would be given to a junior council member—say, Number Fourteen or Fifteen. But instead, because he has so many responsibilities that he doesn't have the time to run a major department as well…'M' Division is held by Doctor Fukuda."

"Fukuda Ikemoto," echoed Jupiter. "Number One himself. The chairman of the Serenity Council!"

"Yeah," said Mercury, looking up from the screen of her computer. "That's what it says here, too. So if Lady Blue links to 'K' Division, we have to assume that 'M' Division links to the chairman. In which case—"

"In which case, the enemy hasn't infiltrated the government," Uranus finished. "The enemy _is_ the government."

A long silence fell.

"Then…then what can we do?" said Sailor Mars timidly. That brought a new silence. They all looked at one other uncertainly, none of them knowing what to say. Until—

"We strike back," said Ochiyo.

Jupiter stared at her. "Uh…what?"

"We strike back, I said. We go on the offensive." Ochiyo returned her look with a calm expression. "I'm really not seeing the problem here."

"But—but we can't just go attacking the government," protested Venus. "I mean…can we?"

"I don't see why not." Ochiyo shrugged. "They attacked us tonight, and nearly killed Miyo-san. I mean, Makoto-san. From what you've all said, they've attacked you several times before, too. All the evidence says they're in league with the enemy who destroyed Crystal Tokyo. How much more do you need?"

"Now, wait," said Seki, alarmed. "A lot of this is supposition, remember. You can't just go declaring war on the Serenity Council without evidence."

"But we have evidence." Ochiyo pointed to the twisted metal device that Jupiter still held. "Right there. 'M' Division have been designing weapons to use against us. I'd call that a hostile act."

Seki was inclined to agree, but she felt compelled to play devil's advocate all the same. Couldn't this girl see the implications of what she was about to do? "Some might say it's merely pragmatic," she argued. "Even a perfectly honest government would want to be able to deal with super-powered criminals, if necessary. It's not enough—"

"Wait, you're saying we're _criminals_?" demanded Uranus furiously.

"You might be, if you go attacking the government. It's a big step, Suzue-chan. Be sure that you've thought it through. The evidence may seem convincing right now, but you need to be certain! After all, if it weren't for what we've heard tonight, I'd have thought the government was actually doing a pretty good job—"

"That's what _you_ think," Uranus snarled. "If you knew some of the things they—" She broke off suddenly. "No. Never mind that now. I'm with you, Aizawa-san; let's attack. Tonight."

Hating herself a little, Seki tried one last time. "Ochiyo-chan—you do realise that you could order the Serenity Council to step down in your favour, and legally they'd have to do it?"

Ochiyo blinked. "Hmm. That might be fun." Then she smiled. "Maybe next week."

"Ochiyo-chan—"

"It wouldn't work," put in Jupiter. "Itsuko, if they _are_ the enemy, she'd just be playing into their hands. They'd be able to lock us up in endless legal battles while they fired more monsters at us behind the scenes, and we'd be exactly where we are now—or worse. You and I both played Serenity's ambassadors—you must remember how it works." She hesitated, and then said, "Anyway, you didn't feel what that thing of theirs does to you." She rubbed her neck and winced. "I think Ochiyo-chan's right. We should strike back."

There was a chorus of agreement from the other Senshi. Knowing she had lost, Seki said, "But where? How? You don't have a target!"

"I think we do," said Ochiyo. She pointed again to the device in Jupiter's hands. "'M' Division. Sailor Mercury, where would that most likely have been made?"

"Huh?" Mercury stared at Moon, then down at her computer. "That's—umm. Give me a minute." She tried typing a few tentative commands. Then a few more. After a little she admitted, "Uh…this may take me a while." She added, under her breath, but quite audibly, "And why does everyone think I'm supposed to be a computer expert, anyway?"

"Shinmei district," said Sailor Mars in a quiet voice. Mercury looked up at her, surprised, and she added, "It—it's the main office. And the research and development sections are there. I walk past it, on my way to the botanical gardens sometimes…"

Then, suddenly, she noticed that everyone was looking at her. She let out a gasp and shrank back. "I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt—"

Half the Senshi started to speak at once, reassuring her, but they fell silent as Mercury cleared her throat loudly. Mercury stared around at them, as if daring them to speak, before returning her eyes to Mars. Then she smiled. "Shinmei, huh? Let's have a look."

She looked back to her computer, glared at it, and tried a new command. That did not work; she tried again, cursing under her breath, and finally the screen lit up with a reply. "Ah! There it is. Um, let's see. Three linked buildings…offices, workshops…and—huh. Research and development section. What do you know?"

Uranus and Jupiter peered over her shoulder. "It makes sense," Uranus said. "Head office…if Fukuda-san _is_ working for the Enemy, he'd want to keep this kind of project close at hand." Jupiter nodded.

Mercury looked over at Sailor Mars, grinning. "Nice work," she said, and winked. Mars flushed scarlet; her mouth opened and closed, but she did not make a sound.

"So," said Ochiyo. "Are we agreed, then?" She glanced around the group, seeing them all nod. "All right."

With a sharp gesture, she raised one hand into the air. It held a small, glittering object: a brooch, with a circular emblem on the front. "MOON PRISM POWER, MAKE-UP!"

It was then, really, that any lingering doubt in the others' minds was removed. Ochiyo was immersed in glittering energy; her pyjamas melted away, replaced by a blue and white seifuku with red bows. For a moment, a golden full moon glowed brightly on her forehead, before it was covered by a gleaming tiara. High red boots formed on her legs. Then the power faded and Sailor Moon was with them once more.

She gave a brisk glance around the circle of Senshi. "Are we ready?" she said. They all nodded. "Then let's go."

Six Senshi ran to the window and leaped out into the night.

- - -

Hiyama Seki—formerly Pappadopoulos Itsuko and many other names, née Hino Rei—watched them go and felt old.

It was not merely that she was no longer one of them, or that they were going into action and she had to stay behind. It was their attitudes, as much as anything. They were young; they acted young and they still _thought_ young. They still knew they could do anything, where Seki had learned differently. They learned of an enemy base—or, at least, somewhere that _might_ be an enemy base—and immediately they went on the attack, with no thought for consequences.

Even Jupiter, whose memories were old but whose body was young once more, was ready to go along with them. Jupiter, who had admitted that she still felt weak and ill after the attack by 'S' Division. Makoto should have known better; she had had centuries to _learn_ better, and just a few moments ago she had shown that she still remembered subtlety, when she wanted to. But no; she too was ready to drop everything and throw caution to the winds.

Worse still, Seki herself, she who had once been the fiery one, the dynamic go-getter Sailor Mars—she had argued for caution. She had acted old.

She remembered Sadako again, and wondered whether it was this way for the enigmatic Pluto. Seki had told her once that she thought she could understand the older woman's perspective. Now, just three weeks later, she knew better.

She sighed, and shook herself. Standing here feeling sorry for herself; _that_ was mature. And it was two-thirty in the morning, and she was desperately short of sleep from the previous night; and she still had so many things to do. She looked down at the little firepot on the floor, beside the suitcases, and smiled to herself at the smouldering red glow inside. Events might not have gone the way she'd intended tonight, but she had managed the important thing.

Then her eyes snapped back to the suitcases. Two of them: massive and sturdy, and packed very full. Beside them, Makoto's two bags, lighter but nearly as large. All of them waiting to be carried down to Seki's car…which was parked a couple of blocks away. She groaned aloud.

She sighed again, picked up the firepot, and got to work.

* * *

Sailor Mercury kept pace with Mars as they ran. Mars had improved a lot since she had first seen the girl, cowering at the foot of a warehouse building, unable to jump to the top to escape from the vitrimorph that was about to kill her. She was still awkward, her movements unsure, but she could get to the top of a building, at least; and given a little encouragement, she could run. Quite well, actually.

They were not going over the rooftops now, though. Why bother? The roads were almost empty at this hour. Side by side, they sped through the streets of Crystal Tokyo, Venus and Jupiter a little behind them, Moon and Uranus a little ahead. Now and then a car would pass them, and twice, a driver jammed on his or her brakes at the sight of them. The first time, Mercury ignored it; but the second time, she gave a cheery wave and a grin as she ran past. For a fraction of a second she saw the driver staring back, his eyes huge and his mouth hanging open; and then he was gone, receding in the night. Something for him to tell his grandchildren, perhaps.

She stole a glance at her companion. Mars really had changed since the battle at Zarigani Mall; she was keeping pace smoothly, her breath quick but steady, her limbs moving with an easy rhythm. How she managed it in those high heels, Mercury had no idea; though of course Mercury's own boots were little better. Perhaps it was just one of the perks of being a Senshi.

Ten or fifteen minutes after leaving the Olympus, they came to a halt in a dark, narrow alley near a building in Shinmei. It was not all that large, only four stories, but they could see two other buildings—no higher, but much larger—behind it, linked to it by walkways. An illuminated signboard at the front proclaimed:

M DIVISION   
HEAD OFFICE   
- - - - -  
RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT

The building was mostly darkened, but the lobby was well-lit. Two men in security guards' uniforms sat at the reception desk.

"Okay," said Uranus. She had sounded confident enough back at the Olympus, but now her voice was nervous. "How do we handle this?"

"There's pretty good security on those doors, if you look closely," said Jupiter. She was breathing heavily after the run, her forehead dotted with sweat, but her voice was level and clear. "Palm-print readers, cameras, probably more we can't see. And the guards. If we try to just break in the door, we'll have the police here in five minutes."

"Mercury, can you get anything?" asked Moon.

Uh-oh. Mercury winced. She had been afraid of this: Sailor Moon still thought she could do anything at all with her computer. Still, she obediently pulled the device out again and told it to check the building. The results did not surprise her. "No good," she reported in a low voice. "The scan's given me a better floor plan, but that's about all. Their security system is locked down pretty tight. I can't see any way to connect to it from outside."

"Uh—" Sailor Venus spoke up unexpectedly. She was looking at the building with a vague expression, as if trying to remember something. "Try the fire control system," she said.

"You want to set off the fire alarm?" Uranus gave her a startled look. "We're trying to keep quiet, not attract more attention!"

"No, no. Look, the fire control system uses the building's internal network. It's a standard system called BACnet—Building Automation and Control. And security probably uses the same physical network! So if you can tap into the fire system—"

"—She might be able to use it to get into building security, too," finished Uranus, nodding. "That's not bad." She blinked at Venus, bemused. "How did you—?"

Venus flushed. "I—I was reading a book about building design, a while back—" She broke off, shaking her head. "Well, anyway. There should be an external indicator panel for the fire system, somewhere outside…probably near the main doors. Sailor Mercury, you might be able to get access through that."

It only took them a few seconds to find the panel: a board showing an outline of the building, with tiny green status lights for each floor. As Venus had suggested, it was not far from the main door—but, thankfully, out of sight of it, just around the corner in a narrow side street.

The Senshi stood in a huddle, watching as Mercury studied the board. There was no way to physically connect to it, but her computer claimed that it could do something called an 'inductance link'—whatever that meant. _Close proximity required,_ it said. Well, okay. Gingerly, she held the computer close to the board and pecked out a new command, one-fingered, on the tiny keypad.

And then, to her considerable surprise, the screen lit up with an acknowledgement message. "I'll be damned," she said. "I'm in."

Hurriedly, she scanned through the building's security control. There was a test mode that looked just what they needed: the security system would continue to register alarms, but it would no longer report them. She activated the mode and started to disconnect her computer again—and then paused as she noticed what else it was showing her. The automation systems shared the building's internal data network, as Venus had said. By cracking into one, she had gained access to both.

More passwords, more security protocols; but whoever had programmed her computer, long ago, knew what they were doing. It broke through the layers of protection effortlessly; and just like that, 'M' Division's records opened themselves up for her. Mercury gave herself a gloating smile, and started searching for information. Her computer could analyse data unthinkably fast; the only real limit was the connection speed.

She started by looking for lists of research projects, but there didn't seem to be any central, master index. Then, in a flash of inspiration, she searched the personnel records for timesheets. Everyone would have to list what they were working on, right? This was a government bureaucracy. She cross-checked the records, and in another minute she had it. 'Interdiction Controller'…cute.

"Found it," she announced. She pulled up the building records—much easier to find—and a moment later, she had a floor plan showing the research lab they wanted. "South end of the building, third floor, room 3J."

Moon raised her eyebrows. "Not bad," she said, and grinned. "For someone who isn't a computer expert."

Mercury smirked back. "It's my natural style and flair. Well, that and the adoration of my millions of fans."

"Can we get on with this?" asked Uranus, pained.

Sailor Moon glanced at her, and chuckled. "Right." She looked back at the building. "Up the fire escapes, I suppose, and in the windows."

"No problem," said Venus. She looked up at the fire escape gantries, high above. Then she took a step back, and launched herself forward: leaping up the building's wall and rebounding back across the street to the building opposite, propelling herself higher, then bouncing back again, doing a preposterous back-flip in midair—and landing neatly and effortlessly on the fire escape, her hands by her side. She beamed down at them.

Uranus gaped up at her. "That…that one wasn't a cat manoeuvre, was it?" she asked the others in a low voice.

Moon coughed, still staring up at Venus. "Well, I know _I've_ never seen a cat do that."

"No, I mean—" Uranus was interrupted as, above them, Venus released the fire-escape ladder, letting it down hand-over-hand so that it came quietly. "Oh, never mind."

They climbed up the ladder, one by one, and stood for a moment, looking along the building. All the windows were closed. At last Sailor Moon said, "You said the alarms are off, right?" Mercury nodded. Moon smiled, clenched her fist, and casually smashed the glass of the nearest window.

Then she cursed, rubbed her fist and looked at it ruefully. "Ow. I don't think that was normal glass. Lucky we've got these gloves…"

She cleared most of the broken glass out of the window frame and climbed inside. The others followed her. As Mercury entered, she muttered to herself, "I know I was thinking about being a burglar, but this _isn't_ what I had in mind."

They stood in a darkened room. Mercury looked around, interested. It was very large and well-furnished: definitely an executive office. She itched to try out the big, plush leather chair behind the massive desk, but controlled herself. Maybe there was something to the management life after all.

Someone was speaking to her. "Oh. Right." She shook her head to clear it, then pulled out her computer—again!—and laid it down on the desk so they could all see it, then pulled up the building floor plans she'd found earlier. "Okay"—she pointed—"we're here. Our clever inventor's in office 3J, which is up one floor, _here_. He's also registered in the laboratory _here_, and the workshop _here_."

"Three rooms," said Moon cheerfully. "Okay. We split in three groups, then, one each. Find anything connected to the device and—"

"No, wait," said Jupiter. "Just one man? He probably wasn't working alone, you know."

"He might have been," said Mercury. "That thing was a prototype, right? The records call it an 'Interdiction Controller'…and Egami Shosuke was the only one listed against the project."

"One genius." Moon made a sour face. "Right. Well, let's see if we can put a little setback in Egami-san's research, shall we?"

They split into three groups. Mercury was only a little surprised when Mars moved immediately to her side, but the others eyed each other uncertainly, Uranus and Venus both clearly wanting to go with Sailor Moon. At last Jupiter stepped firmly to the new Senshi's side and said, "Let's go, huh?" She opened the office door and walked out, Moon close behind her.

Venus and Uranus exchanged wry looks and followed them. Privately, Mercury spent a delicious moment wondering how long Venus' cat antics would take to drive Uranus mad. Then she and Mars stepped out into the corridor as well.

As she went through the door, Mercury froze, then called out to the other in a low voice. "Hey! Look at this!" Jupiter turned back impatiently, but her eyes widened as she saw what Mercury was pointing to.

The nameplate on the door said clearly, "DIRECTOR."

"Fukuda-san's own office," breathed Jupiter.

"Well, his division office," said Mercury. "I suppose he has another one downtown in the Council Chambers."

"This one will do." A look passed over Jupiter's face that was something close to satanic. "Give me a moment, will you?" She stepped back into the office and closed the door behind her.

It was a good, heavy door. They all saw the sudden flare of light around the edges, but they could hardly hear any noise at all.

As the door opened once more and Jupiter reemerged, followed by a cloud of smoke, Mercury mimed applause. She sneaked a quick look inside before Jupiter closed the door again. The office looked as though a typhoon had hit it. In a certain sense, perhaps one had. There had certainly been a great deal of thunder and lightning…

Jupiter's face, she noticed, had a curious expression, as if something odd had happened. She was walking carefully, too; in fact, she almost looked…giddy. Belatedly, Mercury remembered that she was still recovering from whatever Egami's invention had done to her. But here she was, using her powers again so soon! She stepped up to Jupiter and murmured, "You all right, Hayashi?"

Jupiter glanced at her and shook her head, as if to clear it. Then she winked. "Me? I'm fine," she said—and laughed. She went up to join the others, moving more confidently now. Mercury watched her for a moment, puzzled. But Jupiter was the experienced one, she reminded herself. And she did _seem_ okay.

They moved on once more. Venus and Uranus were in the lead now: Uranus calm but determined, Venus almost bouncing in excitement. They moved down the corridor quickly, and disappeared through the stairwell door at the end. Jupiter and Moon were close behind them. Mercury and Mars followed, and were halfway along the corridor when Mercury paused once more. Something was nagging at her memory, something she had seen just a minute ago—

She snapped her fingers, and checked her computer yet again. When she had scanned the building from outside, it had built up a new floor plan. But from this close, it had picked up something new: a very interesting feature that wasn't on the official maps.

Silently, she pointed it out to Mars. The elevator back near the Director's office, the one that went down to the car park—it didn't just go up. It also went down, underground. A long way down.

Mercury could not restrain a triumphant smirk. "Someone's got a secret," she sang in an undertone. "I wonder what they're hiding down there?" The scan showed the elevator shaft plunging below ground level—and then faded out, too deep for her computer to follow.

She gave Mars a cheeky grin and said, "Shall we?"

Mars' eyes widened, and she looked at the map again. "But…but Sailor Moon said we were supposed to—"

"Oh, come on! That lot can take care of trashing a lab or two. You saw what Sailor Jupiter did in the office! But this is something the bad guys _really_ want to hide. We can't just let this go, Mars-chan!"

Sailor Mars seemed to shrink back a little—but there was no fear in her face, for once; only uncertainty. "Maybe we should tell the others first?" she ventured.

"Party pooper." Mercury made a face at her. "Oh, all right. Just a minute." She could not call Moon; the new Senshi did not have a communicator yet. Artemis had not been at the Olympus to give her one. She tapped her wrist, and the tiny screen lit up with Sailor Jupiter's face.

"Mercury?" Jupiter's voice was thin but clear. "What is it? Problem?"

"No, no. Look, Mars-chan and I found a hidden room, and we're going to check it out. Okay?"

"Hidden?" Jupiter paused. Then, suddenly excited, she said, "Hold on. We'll come with you."

"Nah, don't worry, obaachan. We can handle it. Hey, I'll give you a call if we find anything good, okay?"

"What? Look, this isn't a game, you idi—"

Mercury touched her communicator again and Jupiter's voice cut off in mid-squawk. She beamed at Sailor Mars. "There! Okay?" She winked, then turned and jogged back down the corridor to the elevator doors near the Director's office. After a few seconds she heard Mars follow her, and smiled to herself.

She touched the _down_ button and a few seconds later the doors slid open. She stepped in and examined the control panel. There were buttons for every visible floor—but nothing for anything below ground level. Even better! They really _were_ hiding something. She started to look around the elevator car for hidden controls.

Mars tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the control panel again. There was a narrow slot at the bottom of the panel: a standard port for a maintenance key. Mercury stared at it for a moment, then realised what Mars meant. She threw the girl a big grin, and held her computer up to the slot.

The elevator started to move. It went down a long way.

- - -

Jupiter stared incredulously at her communicator. "That—that—I don't believe this. That _idiot_!"

"I don't get it," said Sailor Moon. "Why did she call you 'obaachan'?"

"Don't ask," said Jupiter sourly. Then she sighed. "Oh, Dhiti…I should have known you couldn't take this seriously."

Moon gave her a quizzical look. "You're really worried about her, aren't you? Why? Don't you think she can handle it?"

"I—" Jupiter looked torn. "Yes," she said reluctantly, "she probably can. It's just that…she _isn't_ an idiot; Dhiti-chan is the smartest person I know, when she wants to be. But that's the problem, sometimes. Everything comes too easily for her, so she…she plays with it. She always has to stand out, you know? And she's never been afraid of paying the price…"

"We can go after her, if you want," offered Sailor Moon.

Jupiter hesitated a moment longer, then shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm overreacting. I mean—a hidden room? How much trouble can that be? It'll turn out to be a switching room or a broom closet or something, and she'll be back here in two minutes."

"Sure." Moon nodded. "And she can always call for help if there's trouble. Anyway, she's got Mars with her; two Senshi ought to be able to handle anything we're going to find here!"

Sailor Jupiter gave her a flat, unreadable look. "Unfortunately," she said, "you have a lot to learn about Sailor Mars."

- - -

Uranus looked around the workshop. "You know," she said thoughtfully to Venus, "I can't help thinking that you and I don't have the right power set for this sort of thing."

Venus paused from where she was trying to push over a massive drill press. Unfortunately, it was bolted to the floor. "How's that?" she asked, a little out of breath.

"Well, your Chain Thing is…just a chain, mostly. And my Music is an ultrasonic beam, and that's just not very good at destroying things."

"Huh? But it works on vitrimorphs," Venus protested.

"Mm. But they're crystal, and I can tune the pitch to hit their resonant frequency. All this stuff is pretty inhomogeneous, though; it doesn't _have_ any one resonant frequency."

"Uhh…I have no idea what that means."

"Oh, never mind. I don't suppose you know any cat methods of mass destruction?" Uranus looked over at Venus hopefully.

Venus considered for a moment. "Shedding on things?" she suggested.

Uranus gave her a look filled with horrified fascination. "You…you can _do_ that?"

"Well, not _personally_," Venus answered, completely oblivious to her partner's expression, as she tried the drill press again. "But you wouldn't believe what my bedroom gets like sometimes, when Bendis has been cooped up in there for a while."

"Ye-es. Not actually all that useful right now." Uranus rubbed her brow. She seemed to be getting a headache. "Actually, Sailor Mercury might be the most effective one on this mission. She can just erase their computer systems, and that'd probably hurt them worse than anything—" She paused suddenly. "Hold on. Electromagnetic flux. That gives me an idea."

"Oh." Venus blinked. "I'm happy for you."

"Come over here for a minute." Uranus went to the other side of the workshop, to a massive piece of electronic equipment that she suspected was a chip-etching unit. She'd already put a few Musics of the Spheres into it, but she wasn't sure that she'd hurt it at all. "Can you wrap your Chain Thing around this a few times?"

"Sure. VENUS CHAIN THING!"

A dozen loops of glittering chain settled around the unit, sparking and cracking. Uranus watched them, ignoring with morbid resignation the name of Venus' attack, and reflected wryly that the sparks alone might hurt it more than any of her attacks had. "Okay," she said. "Now, give me a second." She lifted the end of the chain away, and started looking around the walls of the workshop. The chain seemed to tingle and vibrate in her hand, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that if she hadn't been wearing gloves, it might be doing a lot more.

"Uh…what are you doing?" asked Venus nervously.

"Put a current through a loop of wire, and you make an electric field. The more loops, the stronger the field. If you vary the current, you get electromagnetic flux. That can induce another current within something inside the loop. So—" Uranus tried to remember more details from a physics class a year ago, and failed. "Well, anyway, with luck it might just fry this thing."

"A current? Uh, Sailor Uranus, you—"

"Here we are. Alternating current varies sixty times a second. Lots of flux," Uranus said happily. She flipped up the lid on an industrial power terminal and pushed the end of the chain in, then stepped well back and gingerly flipped the switch on.

There was a sharp crack, and a sudden yell. Uranus looked around and saw that the unit was smoking. "Great!" she said happily. "We should be able to fry most of the stuff in here with—" She broke off as she looked around still further, and saw Sailor Venus. The girl was lying on the floor. She, too, was smoking.

"Ah," said Uranus.

Venus stood up gingerly. She shot Uranus an accusing look, opened her mouth, and exhaled a perfect smoke ring.

"All _right_. You were still holding the chain. I'm sorry—"

"If I let go of the chain," said Venus coldly, "it disappears."

Uranus took a deep breath, and released it. "I _am_ sorry. I just…don't think we're doing a lot of good here, you know?"

Venus glared at her a moment longer, then subsided. She looked around the room. "We could set fire to the building," she suggested. Her hair was standing on end, but Uranus decided not to mention it.

"If there's anyone else inside here, they could get killed. We shut off the alarms, remember?" Uranus sighed. "I think I was right before. We should just get Mercury to erase their computers."

"They've probably got off-site backups." Venus' brow creased in thought. "Actually, when it comes to that thing they used on Jupiter, the guy who made it probably just _remembers_ how it works."

Uranus stared at her. "That's true. There's—dammit, there's nothing _vital_ we can attack, is there? Nothing they _need_, like…oh, a Death Busters' laboratory. Anything we do here is going to be a setback, that's all. An inconvenience."

"So?" Venus raised her eyebrows.

"So—" Lips tight, Uranus glanced around the workshop. Then she let out a breath and made herself relax. If this was all they could do, then…She looked back at Venus, and slowly, she started to smile. "Let's make it a really _impressive_ setback, shall we? One that sends them a message. What do you think?"

"Yeah!" Suddenly jubilant, Venus launched herself at the drill press again.

Uranus groaned. "Lady's sake, that thing is bolted down! You're never going to shif—" She broke off as, with a grating, tearing sound, the bolts ripped free and the drill press toppled to the floor. "I'll be damned. You know, Venus…"

"Hmm?" Venus said, panting a little.

"Sometimes you scare me a little…no, forget I said that." Uranus looked at the drill press again. "They can probably repair that thing, though. Why not make it a little harder for them, and pour it full of glue or something?"

"Glue? Where am I going to get glue?"

"Improvise!"

Uranus went to the far wall and yanked down a fire extinguisher. She took it over the chip-etcher and started to fill the machine with powder. Behind her, she heard exuberant smashing noises start up, but paid them no mind. Really, when she thought about it, wanton destruction in a good cause could be…quite soothing.

When the extinguisher rattled empty, she put it down and touched her communicator. As long as they were out to make an impression, it couldn't hurt to ask Mercury to wipe the computers after all.

There was no response for several seconds. Then she heard Mercury say, "Hello?"

"Uranus here," she said. "I was thinking—do you suppose you could erase all the computer systems in this place? It might help, um, get our message across."

Again Mercury did not reply for some time. At last she said evasively, "Um…I'm sort of busy here. But I'll see what I can do."

"Great. Bye!" Uranus switched off her communicator and started looking around for something else to destroy. Sailor Venus had a good lead built up, and Uranus didn't want the girl to think she was slacking.

She noticed a welding torch on an equipment rack. Hmm.

- - -

"They sound like they're having fun," said Sailor Moon. Another loud crash came from the other side of the wall as she spoke, followed by a long sliding noise and another bang.

Jupiter winced at the sound. "Maybe I ought to tell them to tone it down. There _are_ still guards downstairs."

"Yes," said Moon, nodding thoughtfully, "and none of them would have heard, oh, say, multiple lightning bolts going off."

Jupiter bristled. "Are you implying something?!"

Moon started to reply, but then appeared to think better of it. Instead she looked around the office and said, "I'd say we're pretty much done here, don't you think?"

Indeed, the room looked as if multiple cyclones had blown through it. There was little left that had not been damaged or wrecked in some way. Jupiter was particularly struck by the fate of the desk computer, which lay in pieces all over the office. She had not blown it apart with her lightning; instead Sailor Moon had used her tiara to—as she put it—slice and dice the unlucky computer into a large number of very small cubes.

The two of them had also spent some time going through all the papers they could find, hoping to uncover some further link to the Serenity Council and the Enemy. But there was nothing. The computer might have held the details they wanted, but they had thought of that a little too late.

However they had, rather to Jupiter's relief, found definite proof that they had come to the right place. Another Interdiction Controller, this one only semi-complete, had been lying a locked cupboard to one side of the office. Jupiter took grim pleasure in destroying it personally.

When Egami Shosuke came in to work on Monday morning, he was going to be a very unhappy man.

Best of all, Jupiter was feeling almost her old self once more. The Interdiction Controller had almost killed her; and using her power again so soon, transforming to her Senshi form back in the Olympus, had left her weak and trembling. But the run through the streets, while tiring, had also helped; the purely physical activity had steadied her, gotten her on an even keel once again.

Later, when she had called down her lightning in the director's office, it had felt for a moment as if the power were not going to come. Even worse, she had dreaded it, feared feeling the touch of electricity again. But when it did come, it had felt like…like a long, cool drink of crystal-clear water. It cleansed her; the true, unwarped power seemed to wash away all her ills. It left her feeling tired and light-headed, but nothing more. All she really needed now was a little rest…

"I suppose so," she said. "Maybe we should take a look next door, see how the others are doing. There's that laboratory still to check, too." As she spoke, the lights flickered for a moment, then steadied. She glanced up, surprised.

Moon nodded, not appearing to notice. "Okay. Let's go."

As they left, Moon leading the way, Jupiter found herself studying her companion. In some ways, working with the girl was…difficult. Every time she saw her, she kept expecting long golden tresses, or shorter pink hair. Her heart would leap, and then fall again as she saw an unfamiliar face.

It was hard to see someone new in the uniform; harder than it had been with any of the other new girls. Ochiyo was very different from her mother—though there had been that one moment of all-too-familiar gawkiness during the battle earlier. And yet, thus far at least, Jupiter rather thought she approved of this Moon. She had certainly taken charge easily enough when she decided to come here. It was going to be interesting, seeing how things changed—

"What are you staring at?" said Moon, interrupting her wool-gathering. Then, outraged: "Are you looking at my butt?"

"Er—" Jupiter followed her out of the office hastily. "No. Sorry."

"You were, weren't you?" Moon gave an indignant sniff as she opened the door to the workshop. "What, you think there's something wrong with it? Let me tell you, I have it on the highest authority that my butt is _excellent_."

"Your butt is fine!" Jupiter shouted, just as exasperated. "And I was not looking at it!"

Then she froze. She was standing in the door of the workshop. Within the room, Uranus and Venus were…staring at her.

"Um," she said.

Uranus exchanged glances with Venus. Then she shook her head. "I _so_ do not want to know," she said.

"I do," said Venus brightly.

"No, you _don't_," said Jupiter, glaring at her. Then, still scowling, she looked around the workshop. In spite of herself, she whistled. "You two have been busy."

The workshop had been well-equipped with tools, machinery and electronic equipment. Now, what it mostly seemed to be equipped with was junk. Lathes and milling machines had been turned on each other, reducing each to twisted ruin. A heavy drill press lay on the floor with a sticky, vile-smelling substance oozing out of its case. Racks of electronic instruments—multimeters, signal generators, oscilloscopes and other devices she could not name—had simply been smashed. A pile of power supplies that had been hooked up to each other was smoking gently. Still further appliances had been literally welded together into a huge, ungainly mass. Sailor Uranus, she saw, was still holding the guilty welding torch. She was using it—

She was using it to etch a message into the wall. Jupiter had to admire the idea. The message in question—a simple "SAILOR SENSHI" in letters more than a metre high—gave her a sudden flashback to an old twentieth-century anime, and she chuckled.

Uranus saw what she was looking at and cleared her throat, reddening. "I, ah, just thought that—" she began.

"That's such a great idea!" Moon interrupted her, beaming. "Maybe we should do that in the other rooms as well." Uranus's head lifted and she started to smile in return. The lights flickered again.

"Yeah, about that," said Jupiter, glancing up suspiciously. "We should probably move on to the laboratory. It looks like you're about finished here."

Venus said, "I thought Mercury and Mars were doing the laboratory?"

Moon and Jupiter exchanged a look. "Sailor Mercury said she'd found a hidden room," said Jupiter. "I assumed she—wait. You haven't heard anything from her either?"

Uranus sighed, and made an irritated gesture with her welding torch. "What's she up to now?"

"It has been a while," said Moon with a frown.

"Um. Let me check if she went to—" Jupiter ducked out of the workshop and ran to the laboratory nearby. The others followed her.

The lab lights were off. Jupiter flicked them on and looked around. There was no sign of Mercury or Mars. She started inside to look more closely—

The lights went out.

She froze. It was not just the laboratory lights; the corridor behind her was suddenly dark as well. She heard the other Senshi exclaiming in surprise behind her, and for a moment she had a panicky flashback to the Olympus office. Then she took hold of herself. This was not like then, waking up surrounded by the din of battle. There was no sound at all, except for—

She heard Uranus growl, "Venus, did you _touch_ something?"

"No! Honestly! I didn't do anything!"

Moon's voice cut through the chatter. "Shouldn't the emergency lights have come on?" Nobody answered. If there were emergency lights, they remained dark. The only illumination came through the windows, and as the lab did not face the street, it was vanishingly weak.

Jupiter spoke up. "I don't suppose anyone has a torch?"

"Oh." Uranus again. "I think I did see one, in the workshop. Just a moment—" They heard quick footsteps, followed by a sudden heavy clatter and a yelp of pain. Then more deliberate footsteps, and the sound of rummaging. It seemed to last forever, but at last Uranus made a pleased sound and they saw a dim light filtering back through the corridor. It brightened as Uranus returned.

"There was an emergency kit," she explained, passing a second torch to Sailor Moon. "Everyone okay? Any sign of Mercury and Mars?"

"I didn't see them," replied Jupiter. Uranus stepped past her and shone her light around the laboratory. The two Senshi were not there.

"Try your communicator," ordered Moon.

"Oh, yeah." Jupiter touched the device on her wrist. "Mercury?" she called. "Sailor Mercury? Sailor Mars? Come in!"

There was no answer.

"All right," said Moon, her voice crisp and sharp. "We need to search the building. Spread out and see if you can find any sign of them. Uranus, Venus, try that way. Sailor Jupiter and I will—"

She was interrupted by a sudden voice from behind. It said, "What are you doing?"

- - -

The elevator went down a long way. Mercury shot Sailor Mars a triumphant grin as they began, but the grin faded after a little as they continued to descend. Just how far down could they go, anyway?

Then the elevator slowed and came to a halt. Mercury's computer showed that they were sixty metres underground. What could be so important that it needed to be hidden this far down? And how had 'M' Division ever dug so deep without anyone noticing?

The doors slid open and they stepped out into a dimly-lit passage. The elevator doors rumbled shut behind them as they looked around. Two or three metres ahead, the passage opened out into a room with stark white walls. A desk stood against one wall, holding a computer and other equipment. At the far end of the room was a closed door.

Standing on either side of the door was an armed security guard.

Mercury had just enough time to say, "Uh-oh."

The guards looked up as the elevator doors closed, and the flat, bored look vanished from their faces. For a moment, their eyes widened. Then they reached for their weapons.

The two Senshi reacted without thinking. Mercury dropped to the floor and rolled to one side; opposite her, Mars vanished back against the darkened side of the passage. An instant later a sharp chatter of gunfire filled the air and bullets peppered the rear wall.

Mercury glanced up at Mars. Rather to her surprise, the other girl was not cowering in fear; instead, she returned Mercury's look with a determined one of her own. They shared a quick nod. Then they _moved_.

"ICE SPEAR!"   
"BURNING MANDALA!"

Even as the glowing tracery of Mars' attack began to sweep across the floor, Mercury's spear struck the wall just over the guards' heads. It shattered in a spray of freezing white powder and splinters, and both guards ducked instinctively.

Behind them, as Mars' Mandala passed over the computer, it suddenly made a hissing noise and spat out a cloud of smoke. The screen crazed, then went dark.

Two Senshi hurtled into the room toward the guards.

And it was so _easy_. They were upon the guards before they could straighten up once more. The two men were much bigger than either girl, but they did not have a Senshi's strength or speed. Mercury started low and leaped up at the nearest man, hitting him at chest level and sending him staggering back to hit the far wall with an agonised grunt. He started to straighten back up and she hit him again, catching him under the jaw and spinning him back into the wall again. He slumped to the floor, motionless.

_Wow,_ Mercury thought. _Why can't the vitrimorphs go down this fast?_

Then she remembered Mars, and hastily looked around. She was just in time to see the other Senshi grab the second guard by the arm and toss him over her shoulder in a perfect flip. There was something familiar about the move, and after a moment she remembered: it was one that she'd seen Itsuko teaching the girl, back at their training session in the meadow. _Way to go, Mars-chan!_

While the second guard still lay winded, flat on his back, Mars stood over him and held one hand out, pointing at his face. "Don't move," she said quietly, "or I'll blow your fucking head right off."

Mercury stared at her in admiration, and almost applauded. She'd never suspected that Iku had it in her! Then she paused. There was something very familiar about that speech, too. Abruptly she remembered why, and had to turn away to hide a sudden laugh.

And she saw the third guard.

The rear door was open, and he stood in the doorway. His weapon was raised, aimed squarely at Mars. His eyes met hers. As if in slow motion, she saw his finger tighten on the trigger.

There was no time for thought. She moved, shouting. The gun fired.

With a cry of shock, Sailor Mars spun and fell.

The third guard slammed backward, a spear of ice ripping through his shoulder. He struck the floor, twitched once, and lay still.

Even as he landed, Mercury was running toward Mars. Distantly, she had a vague thought that this was yet another all-too-familiar scene; but then she stopped caring. Mars was lying on her face, one leg folded under her body, not moving. In a moment, Mercury was kneeling by her, holding her shoulder and anxiously asking how bad it was.

And…actually, it didn't look too bad at all. There was no sign of blood. _What, are we bullet-proof, too?_ she thought crazily. Then Mars stirred and pushed herself upright. She let out a faint hiss from between her teeth.

"Are you all right?" asked Mercury in a low voice.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the second guard—the one Mars had been threatening—make a slow, cautious motion. She looked around sharply and said, "Stop right there, asshole, or you'll get what your friend got." He stopped moving, and she stopped thinking about him.

Mars said, "My foot hurts."

"What?" Mercury looked down. "Oh, I don't believe it."

She had fired her ice spear in time after all. She had not been able to stop the guard firing, but she had deflected his aim—just barely enough. The shot had blown the heel off Mars' left shoe, probably given her whole left leg a severe wrench…and nothing more.

She looked up again and said, "You are one lucky girl."

To her surprise, Mars flinched away from the words; her eyes closed, and her face twisted in a grimace. "No, I'm not," she said in a low voice. "I'm not lucky at all."

"What, are you kidding?" Mercury shook her head, and grinned. Suddenly she wanted to laugh out loud. Perhaps it was the sense of relief. She rose, and held out a hand for Mars. "Can you stand on it?"

Mars got up gingerly. She winced when she tried to put weight on her foot, and had to hold onto the edge of the desk. The two of them looked around, taking stock.

Three guards: one stunned, one thoroughly cowed, and the third unconscious and bleeding. With a scowl, Mercury found a first-aid kit in the desk and did what she could for the third man, drawing on a first-aid evening class she'd taken a few months before. He had a deep gash across his shoulder, but it was not spurting blood, so she decided he would live. In the end she could only pack the wound with sterile gauze and hope for the best; under the circumstances, she was not inclined to be too sympathetic. He _had_ been about to kill them without warning, after all.

They tied the other guards up, using more bandages from the first-aid kit. Sailor Mars turned out to be good at knots. They disabled their guns as well, just in case.

Then, at last, they looked at the rear door, and the dark corridor beyond it leading away from the guard-room they stood in. They exchanged a glance. Mercury gestured toward the desk and said, "That thing next to the computer—I think it's a retina scanner. With that, and the guards…it all kind of makes you wonder what they're trying to hide, hmm?"

Mars nodded.

"Let's find out." She held out an arm for Mars to lean on—the girl still could not put any weight on her left foot—and the two of them started forward.

The corridor was not long: no more than six metres. At the end, it opened into a massive, dimly-lit chamber. At first it was hard to make out any more than that, for the room was filled with such a collection of dark, unidentifiable shapes that their eyes registered only a confused jumble. Then, as they slowly became accustomed to the light, details started to become clearer.

Dark banks of equipment lined most of the walls. Much of it seemed to be electronic—here and there Mercury could make out computer screens, glowing dimly—but elsewhere she could see other shadows, less familiar, unidentifiable in the gloom. In the centre of the room was a great, disorderly heap of strangely-shaped objects. From somewhere nearby came a sharp, chemical smell that reminded her of hospitals.

They stood for a moment longer, staring around the room. Then Mercury finally remembered her computer visor. She raised a hand to activate it, and at once her surroundings seemed to light up, as clear as day. She started to look around again—

They heard a gasp, from somewhere nearby. Instinctively, Mercury spun to face the sound. Mars, her hand shaken loose, staggered and nearly fell. She cried out. As if in reply, there was an audible click.

Without warning, accompanied by a low hum that faded away again almost instantly, the lights came on.

They froze, blinking rapidly, as the room and its contents suddenly became clearer. Stacks of computers and other electronic boxes were everywhere, interspersed with machine tools and other equipment, less easy to identify. Here was a cluster of tall cylinders that looked like oxygen tanks; there a long table holding a line of heavy upright rings, carefully aligned, with a massive attachment at one end that resembled a futuristic cannon; in one corner, a silvery vat that looked almost big enough to swim in; and opposite it, projecting out from the wall, a tank-like chamber with a heavy glass window and what appeared to be an air-tight door. The nearest corner held a well-equipped chemical laboratory; and the muddled heap in the centre of the room became, to their surprise, a disassembled Opal.

Not far away from the two of them, hand still raised to a light switch on the wall, was a woman.

She was middle-aged, perhaps older. Her face was lined and pale, as if she did not get enough sun; her hair lank and grey, tied back in an untidy bun. She wore a rumpled white coat that appeared to have been slept in. She stared at them in utter shock.

A beeping sound came from Mercury's wrist.

Mercury froze, then cursed under her breath. She turned her visor off again and touched her wrist. "Hello?"

"Uranus here," said the tiny face on her communicator screen. "I was thinking—do you suppose you could erase all the computer systems in this place? It might help, um, get our message across."

From the corner of her eye, Mercury saw the old woman stiffen. Very carefully, she said, "Um…I'm sort of busy here. But I'll see what I can do."

"Great," said Uranus. "Bye!" The communicator screen went blank, and Mercury briefly fantasised about throttling Suzue the next time she saw her. She looked back to the woman and tried to think what to say.

The old woman said, "You…you're Sailor Senshi." Her eyes were still wide in astonishment. Her hands trembled a little.

"Sure," said Mercury, giving her a false smile. "I'm Sailor Mercury, and she's Sailor Mars." She resisted the temptation to add, "Who were you expecting? The three bears?" For all she knew, this woman could summon a dozen more armed guards. Just what had she gotten herself into this time?

"I—forgive me," the woman said shakily. "I never knew—I never even dreamed—It's you. Oh, heavens, it's really you, isn't it?" To Mercury's astonishment, she was crying.

"Uh…hey," she said. "It's okay. Yeah, sure, it's us. Why, who were you expecting?"

"I heard the noise outside, the gunshots, and I thought…no, I didn't know what to think. I never…never imagined that the Senshi had come back at last…" The old woman rubbed her eyes. "I should have guessed. It explains so many things…"

"You never—?" Mercury raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I thought everyone in Third Tokyo knew by now."

"Oh, I…I don't get out much." The woman pulled out a clean white handkerchief and blew her nose. She was still shaken, Mercury could see, but was getting control of herself. "Forgive me, dear. You caught me by surprise."

"That's okay. Uh—" Mercury gestured around the chamber. "Who are you, anyway? What is this place?"

"Oh!" The old woman was startled. "This is 'M' Division's research department, of course. And I'm…oh, just call me Emma. I work here."

Mars spoke up for the first time. "I thought the building upstairs was the research and development department."

Emma wiped her eyes again, and gave her a faint smile. "This is the _real_ research department, dear."

Mercury glanced at the disassembled Opal again, and wondered what kind of research it was being used for. For a moment, she remembered being chased through the streets of the city by an Opal, a few weeks before. Was there a connection?

Emma noticed what she was looking at and said, "Yes, we work on those, too. They were invented here, did you know? Omni-Purpose Aerial Link. But that one was—" She broke off as Mars shifted restlessly, taking Mercury's arm again for balance. Emma's expression sharpened. "You're hurt!"

"Oh…no…it's—"

"Sprained ankle, probably," said Mercury. "But don't you worry. Mars-chan is tough." She gave Mars' arm a quick squeeze, and was delighted to see the girl flush in response.

"Don't be silly," said Emma. "Let me see…come over here." She indicated a table and chairs nearby, close to the chemical laboratory, and started toward it without looking back. Mercury and Mars exchanged glances and followed her. Mars was limping more heavily now.

The old woman ordered Mars to sit, and spent some time carefully examining her foot. Her hands must have been gentle, for Mars barely winced. Mercury watched the process, trying to restrain a glower. She could not put her finger on it, but something was wrong here; something about Emma that set her on edge. The more innocuous the woman seemed, the more her misgivings grew…

At length, with a nod of satisfaction, Emma lowered the injured foot and said, "Well. It's a nasty sprain, all right. Ordinarily I'd wrap it well and tell you to use an ice bath to reduce the swelling, and stay off it for at least a few days—but somehow I don't think that's going to be an option for you, is it, dear?" She gave Mars a wry smile. "Still, the old stories say a Senshi heals fast."

Mercury could take it no longer. "Look, why are you being so helpful?" she demanded. "We break in here, beat up your guards—who are you, really? And what _is_ this place?"

Emma threw her a sharp look. "I already told you," she snapped as she rose. "I'm a researcher, and this is my research lab." She sniffed, and turned to open a nearby cupboard, pulling out a first-aid kit. She began to wrap Mars' ankle tightly with an elastic bandage. "As for why I'm helping you—well, why wouldn't I? I'm not inhuman. Even if your friend _does_ want you to erase all my work." Her eyes met Mercury's with a challenge.

Aha. Now, at last, they came to it. "Your work?" repeated Mercury, refusing to look away. "You mean _you_ invented the Interdiction Controller?"

Emma paused. "The what?"

Mercury smirked at her. "Yeah," she said. "Right."

The old woman frowned, and turned suddenly to a computer terminal on one of the lab desks. She typed amazingly quickly, her fingers flying across the keyboard. The screen flashed up a page of information and she stopped, her eyes flicking over the screen.

"Let's see," she said. "There's only notes here…oh. Yes, I see what he was working on. Oh, dear." She sighed. "That _is_ rather nasty, isn't it? I didn't think Egami-san had it in him." A moment later she added, "Did…anyone get hurt?"

"Sailor Jupiter," said Mars. "She was almost killed."

Emma nodded, turning to face them once more. "Yes. Now I know why you're here. And why your friend wanted you to erase the computer systems." As if to herself, she murmured, "Suddenly everything's starting to make sense…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Mercury.

"Hm. Nothing you need to concern yourself with, dear." Emma studied her briefly, and murmured again, "A Claver Senshi. That's unexpected—but after all, why not?"

Louder, she said, "I think I'm going to help you after all, dear. Some scientists do have ethics, despite what you may have heard." Her lips curled for an instant; then she became serious once more, her brow wrinkling in thought. "Let me see. Clearing the records here won't work; they'll have backups of everything. Hmm. Yes, that will do…"

She began to type again, fingers flying moving and faster. After a moment she remarked, "I've actually had a little data bomb prepared for some time now—against a rainy day, you might say. It just needs a few tweaks to fit the circumstances…" She finished typing with a flourish. "And there! That's that." She stood up from the computer, flexing her fingers.

"What have you done?" asked Mercury suspiciously.

"What your friend asked for, dear." Emma gave her a slightly mocking smile, and indicated the computer. "Check, if you like."

Distrustful, Mercury produced her own computer (Emma raised her eyebrows at the sight, and smiled again) and repeated her earlier query. In an instant, it told her that the data she wanted was missing.

It told her something else. Her link to the building's internal network was still up, but it was behaving strangely. Something was surging through the network: short bursts of data in an odd pattern, building and multiplying in a curious kind of cascade…

She stared at Emma. "What have you _done_?" she repeated.

Emma nodded. "You two had better leave now," she said. "Some of the, ah, amenities here might prove unreliable in a few minutes." She looked at them both for a moment, her eyes moving from girl to girl and back again, and then said in a low voice, "I'm glad I met you, this once. But you should go back to your friends. There's nothing more for you here."

Mercury glanced at her screen again, then shut it off with a shudder. "I think she's right," she said to Mars uneasily. "She isn't just erasing the computers; she's going to bring everything down…Come on. Let's get out of here."

She held out a hand, and helped Mars up. They started back toward the elevators, and Emma followed them politely. As they left the huge chamber, the lights flickered, just for an instant.

When they came to the guardroom, Emma paused and looked down at the bound guards, tutting to herself. She knelt down by the man Mercury had shot. "You didn't say you'd _hurt_ them," she said to Mercury, giving the girl an accusing look.

"Hey, they tried to kill us!" Mercury protested. Behind her, the elevator doors slid open.

Emma waved her silent. "Never mind," she said severely. "Just go. I'll take care of things here."

Mercury gave her a mutinous look, but Mars pulled at her arm gently. With an irritated sigh, she helped the girl into the elevator and pressed the third-floor button.

The last thing she saw, as the doors closed, was Emma, examining the guard's shoulder with gentle fingers. The guard-room lights dimmed, almost imperceptibly; and then the doors were shut and the elevator began to rise.

- - -

M looked up as the elevator doors closed, and shook her head. She left the guard—that girl had done a reasonably competent job on his shoulder—and hurried back toward her lab.

"Too soon," she muttered to herself. Why did they have to come here _now_? She wasn't ready yet!

Then she shook her head. Sailor Senshi, back in Japan! She had not even imagined _this_ possibility. Seeing the two girls, young and naïve and yet somehow unmistakable, had been a shock.

Yet it explained so much. Many of the little tasks the chairman had been giving her lately, the random-seeming, almost meaningless requirements, all fitted. The sensor upgrade to the Opals, for example. Of course the Serenity Council would want to be able to track a Senshi.

She wondered what had prompted their return, though. Some new enemy? And what on Earth had induced Egami to create an obscenity like the Interdiction Controller? There had been only fragmentary working notes on the computer, but the intent had been clear. She had seem the man's personnel records, and really, she had never thought he was that bright. Well, she supposed anyone was entitled to one moment of genius…

If only she had a better idea of what was happening, up in the surface world.

Well, perhaps she would find out. She checked a readout on one of the lab's computer screens, tutted to herself, and started to work rapidly. She had a lot to do, and far too little time.

- - -

"Something about her bothers me," Mercury grouched. "She wouldn't say who she was—and then she was…almost _too_ helpful, at the end. And what did she mean, that was the _real_ research department?"

Mars was leaning back against the elevator wall, bracing herself on the rail. She listened to Mercury grumble for a while, thought, and then said, "Did she really erase everything?"

"Oh, yes, and more than that. She did something to the building network as well. But I'm, er, not quite sure what," Mercury finished lamely.

Mars nodded. Then she said, "She looked at that design on the computer, and worked out what it was for—instantly."

"What?" Mercury stared at her, uncomprehending. Then her expression changed. "The Controller thingummy? You think that she—"

Mars flushed. "I just wondered," she said meekly, "if maybe she already knew all about it."

Mercury thought about this for perhaps half a second. Her fists clenched, and she said, quietly but intensely, "Damn!" Then she reached out and pressed the emergency-stop button on the control panel.

The elevator ground to a halt. Mercury looked over at Mars, and saw no disagreement in the girl's face. She held her computer up to the panel again, and entered in a command. After a second, the elevator began to descend once more.

"The old bitch really played me for a fool, didn't she?" she growled. "When I see her again…" She broke off with a snort.

Then a sudden thought occurred to her, and she looked back at Mars. Sailor Mars, who had just chimed in with an intelligent suggestion. Who had, in fact, done so three or four times now tonight. And who hadn't hesitated to attack those guards, either. Mars was getting unexpectedly bold.

Well, about time.

The doors opened with a subdued rumble, breaking her chain of thought, and the two left the elevator cautiously. To Mercury's surprise, Emma was no longer in the guardroom.

She looked down at the three bound guards warily. Two of them looked back at her, their expressions unreadable. The third was still unconscious. Their bonds looked tight…

"Come on," she said, making up her mind. "Hurry!" She ran on into the cavernous laboratory. The lights were still on; everything looked as it had when she had left. Except…there was no sign of Emma.

She advanced further into the chamber. There was a sizable alcove off to one side that she had not noticed earlier. She ran over and looked inside, and saw a disappointingly normal kitchen. A heavy shelf of rather battered books stood to one side; by it, on the floor, was an unrolled futon and a pillow.

Still no sign of Emma.

She opened the only door in sight. Bathroom and toilet. Both empty. Where had the blasted woman gone?

She went back into the main chamber, noticing for the first time that Mars was not behind her. Then she remembered that Mars could barely walk, and cursed herself. The lights flickered again and she glanced up, startled.

As she looked back around the room, she noticed that all the computer screens had gone dark. All of them, except for one. _Crazy old woman has a flair for the dramatic,_ she thought, amused in spite of herself. She crossed to look at the screen, wondering distractedly if it would be showing a countdown.

It was.

She stared at it, startled. What, was she supposed to think that a bomb was about to go off, or something? But then she remembered the data cascade building in the networks…and that the building automation systems shared the same network. What had Emma said? _Some of the, ah, amenities here might prove unreliable in a few minutes._ She glanced up at the lights, which flickered again. Then her eyes returned to the countdown.

Less than a minute to go.

With a snarl of fury, she spun and raced back toward the guardroom. Sailor Mars was standing at the entrance, holding onto the wall. Mercury barely broke stride; she picked Mars up bodily and carried her back through the guardroom. The elevator doors were still open. She sprinted inside and slapped the third-floor button. Thirty seconds left, at the most, and they had a long way up to go…

They had nearly reached ground level when the power failed. The lights went out and the elevator ground to a halt.

Mercury heard Mars' frightened gasp, and reached out to give her arm a comforting squeeze. Then she activated her visor and looked up at the emergency hatch in the ceiling. This was not going to be fun.

- - -

Sailor Moon gave a quick nod, then looked around at the others. "All right," she said. ""We need to search the building. Spread out and see if you can find any sign of them. Uranus, Venus, try that way. Sailor Jupiter and I will—"

She was interrupted by a voice from behind. It said, "What are you doing?"

She spun about, flicking the torch up. It picked out two figures not far away in the corridor. They were both liberally coated with grease and grime, and one of them was helping the other to stand…but the voice had been unmistakable.

"Sailor Mercury," she said with relief. "Sailor Mars. We were about to go looking for you. Where have you been?" She eyed them and made a face. "What _happened_ to you?"

Mercury hesitated. "I don't suppose you've seen a bath anywhere around this place…?"

"Don't make me come over there and smack you," growled Jupiter.

"Okay, okay. I did _tell_ you what we were doing, obaachan." Mercury quickly told them what she and Mars had found—and what had happened to the lights. "We had to climb the rest of the way up the elevator shaft," she finished at length. "I did hear you calling, a couple of minutes ago, but I had to hold up Mars-chan and I didn't really have a hand to spare. Sorry."

"A crazy old scientist in an underground laboratory?" said Uranus sceptically. "This isn't one of your stupid stories, is it?"

"Hey!" said Mercury, looking hurt. "I don't lie." She paused. "Okay, I may make things up, but I don't actually _lie_."

"And just what exactly is the diff—"

"Never mind that now," cut in Sailor Moon, wondering if the two were always at each other's throats like this. "This Emma…she said she'd erased all the computer systems?"

"Yes," said Mercury. "That, I did check. They were gone."

Moon made a quick decision. "Then I'd say we're finished here. We've done enough for one night." After a moment she added, "And I think I hear sirens. The power cut may have triggered some kind of alarm."

"There were security guards downstairs, remember?" put in Venus. "They could have done something."

"Right. Let's go, everyone, before we're caught in the act. Sailor Mars…can you make it?"

"I'm all right," said Mars steadily. "Sailor Mercury will help me."

- - -

The six of them scattered as they left the building. Jupiter and Venus went in their own directions, and Mercury carried Mars away on her back. Sailor Uranus followed them for a little way, but then paused in a side street a block away from the 'M' Division building, crouching down in a pool of shadow. A few seconds later, the emergency vehicles began to arrive: fire trucks first, followed by 'P' Division Opals.

She paid them little attention. Her eyes remained fixed on another figure, a little way in front of her in the side street. A girl in white, red and blue who stood in a shadow of her own, watching the men and women who raced into the darkened building.

After a little, suddenly impatient, Uranus rose and approached the girl. She moved slowly and carefully, making no sound; but somehow the girl knew she was there anyway. As Uranus had expected she would.

"Sailor Uranus," said Sailor Moon quietly.

"I needed to speak to you," said Uranus, her voice just as low.

"Yes, I thought you might. I was surprised you left it this long, actually." Moon turned toward Uranus, and the motion brought her face into the light. Her expression was serene, her eyes a piercing blue.

"I couldn't, before. Not while the others were around." Uranus bit her lip, struggling with herself. Ever since she had become a Senshi, she had known that this moment would come. Until tonight, though, she had never dreamed that it would be with someone she knew. It made it so much harder.

"You know me from school," she said. "You know…what I am."

"Yes," Moon answered, and waited.

Uranus stalled for a moment longer. Indecision and fear warred within her. In her mind's eye she saw again the day, years before, when she had stood before her class at school and told them what she believed in. She remembered once more what had followed: the mockery, the bullying, the alienation. Ever since then, it had followed her. Whenever she moved up a class—or even when she transferred from middle to high school—there was always someone ready to warn all the others about what they had in their midst. Always someone to make sure she remained the pariah. The few friends she did make were the ones who never cared about the opinions of others anyway—people like Keiko and Minoru—and even they always had to make it publicly clear that there were certain things she could never discuss with them.

And yet. This was the day; this was the moment she had waited for. And she had promised the Blessed Lady that she would have the courage.

Deliberately, she knelt before Sailor Moon, traced the crescent sign on her brow, and touched her forehead to the pavement. "Holy daughter, Sailor Moon," she said, her voice rough. "I greet you in the name of the faithful, and I pledge myself to your service. Command me as you will."

The other girl was silent for a long time. Uranus remained kneeling, not looking up. She waited for laughter, or insults; she waited, a lump in her throat, until she could hardly restrain her trembling; until she wanted to scream at Moon to say something—anything.

And then Moon said, "This must be so hard for you."

Uranus looked up…into a pair of bright blue eyes. Moon was looking down at her, and there was nothing in her face but sympathy.

"Stand up," said Moon. "You don't need to kneel to me."

Uranus stood. She said, "I—" and then broke off. She honestly could not think of anything else to say.

"We're teammates," said Moon, "and we're classmates. You don't have to give me any titles. I don't need a servant right now…but I could use a fellow Senshi. And maybe even a friend. That's the only service I want for now. Is that all right?"

"I…yes, of course." Uranus stumbled over the words, not quite sure that she believed what she was hearing. "Uh. Really?"

Moon chuckled. "Really." The smile on her face fading, she said, "Look, Itagaki-san, I know what you believe. But the truth is, I don't _know_. Okay? A week ago I'd have said it was nonsense. But then _she_ came, and—well, you saw her tonight! And she's supposed to be my mother?" She shook her head. "I already have a mother. I don't know what _she_ is. Not yet."

She fixed Uranus with a clear, unwavering gaze. "I'm not trying to humour you, or put you off. I just. Don't. Know. Do you understand?"

Oddly, Uranus found that she did understood. It was all too similar to how she felt herself, at times. Realising that Moon found the situation just as confusing was somehow comforting.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "It hasn't been easy—to know that I'm a part of Her plan. I can only guess what it must be like for you."

"Plan. Right." Moon made a face. "I'd rather not think about that, to tell the truth." With a shrug, she changed the subject. "What do the others think? The other Senshi?"

"Uh. I, well…I haven't told them, actually. Except for Itsuko-sama—um, I mean, Seki-sama. She…" Uranus paused. "She wasn't happy."

Seeing her expression, Moon grinned. "She does have a temper, doesn't she? I remember at work one time, she—no, never mind. Why was she upset?"

"She thinks I'm a blasphemer," said Uranus shortly.

Moon raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Wow. I could talk to her, if you like."

"No. She and I have already talked about it. I think we've come to an understanding…"

But at that, quite suddenly, the surreality of the moment caught up with her, and she fumbled to a halt. Here she was, standing out in the street, in the middle of the night…talking about Saint Hino, _the_ Sailor Mars…to Sailor Moon, the daughter of the Blessed Lady herself! Talking perfectly familiarly, no less. It was enough to make her head swim.

More than that, this was a girl she had known for a long time—a girl she went to _school_ with. True, they had never been very close; they only shared one class, and to be honest she hadn't spoken to the girl that often before. All the same, they shared a connection that was undeniably informal.

All at once, the contradiction was too much to bear. She looked away, clenching her fists. "I—I can't do this," she said, frustrated. "I can't!"

And again, somehow, Moon seemed to understand. "Yes, you can," she told her, and smiled. Her eyes were warm. "Everything will be all right, Itagaki-san. You'll see."

She winked at Uranus, and touched her arm lightly. "Now go home and get some sleep," she said. "And I'll see you at school on Monday."

* * *

Sailor Mercury came to a halt on the grass beneath her bedroom window, and set Mars down. Mars' own house was still some distance off, but for some time now she had been hearing the quiet gasps of pain in her ear as each movement jarred Mars' ankle, and she could not bear it any longer.

"Look, spend the rest of the night at my place," she whispered to the other girl. "Get your foot a chance to rest. I'll take you home in the morning, before anyone notices. Okay?"

Mars' face twisted, and she thought she saw a flash of something dark and anxious there for an instant. Then the girl said, "Okay."

She lifted Mars through the window, and then followed her. They were met inside by a furiously anxious, and rather startled, white cat.

"Later," she whispered to Artemis. "We have to get cleaned up, and Mars-chan needs to rest her foot. And it's only an hour or so until dawn! I'll tell you what happened later, I promise…"

Artemis clearly wanted to argue, but he said only, "Just change back. All the dirt should disappear with your uniforms."

"Really? That's handy." Mercury made a mental note of the trick, and tried it. Then she wondered why the cat hastily turned away—and why Mars made a sudden choking noise.

Oh. Right. That was _twice_ she'd done that now. Artemis didn't count, of course, but Mars might be getting the wrong idea. Maybe she ought to start wearing pyjamas, if this sort of thing was going to keep happening.

Back as a normal girl again, though, she was suddenly too tired to care. She pulled on a T-shirt and underwear, then ducked out of her room to grab a spare futon and pillow. By the time she got back Mars had become Iku again and was curled up on Dhiti's own bed, fast asleep. Dhiti groaned to herself, laid out the futon, and collapsed onto it. She was asleep almost instantly.

And she dreamed.

She saw a young girl, no more than ten years old, holding a puppy. The puppy was squirming and trying to lick her face; the girl held it away, but was trying just as hard to pet it in return. Her expression was serious, absorbed, but Dhiti almost thought she saw a hint of a smile. With a start, she realised that the girl was Iku.

Then suddenly, the scene shifted; it seemed to melt and dissolve away and Dhiti was looking at an older girl. Still Iku, but this time she was in her Senshi form, as Sailor Mars. She was on her knees, looking up at Dhiti, and there was something magnificent in her eyes: hope, trust, and other things Dhiti could not name. Distantly, she seemed to hear the echo of a voice: "I believe in you."

Another shift, and Iku changed again. This time, absurdly, she was dressed as Sailor Mercury. Her head was thrown back, and she was laughing. Her face was more alive than Dhiti had ever seen it. Was this some kind of costume party? And why was—

Then one last shift and Iku was alone once more. She wore a deep blue robe, its hood thrown back, and her unbound hair—shorter than it should have been—hung down about her face. A dark wooden staff was in the crook of her arm. Dense mists swirled around her. She stared at Dhiti with a look of anguish, and lifted her hands as if to grab hold of her before Dhiti could be snatched away—

Dhiti woke up. She was lying on her futon. The room was dark. Not far away she could hear the real Iku thrashing about in her bed and moaning, as if she were having a bad dream. Dhiti started to sit up, but even as she moved, Iku quietened. After a second the room was silent once more, except for the sound of gentle, regular breathing.

"Well, _that_ was weird," Dhiti said aloud, and promptly fell asleep again. She passed the rest of the night in peaceful, dreamless slumber.

- - -

Far away, in her own bed, Suzue also dreamed.

She stood, or perhaps hung, in a vast, deep blue void. Her cheek tingled, as if at the touch of a ghostly hand, but she was alone. For a timeless period, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the void flickered, and before her was another person: tall, slender, a tousle-haired blonde. She could easily have mistaken the newcomer for male…if she hadn't known better.

"So," said Haruka, "you're my successor." She sounded rather amused by the idea. Her voice was lighter than Suzue had expected.

"Lady Ten'ou," Suzue breathed. Even as she spoke, she knew that this was a dream; but it hardly seemed to matter. She tried to bow, but it didn't work very well in this place.

"None of that," said Haruka sharply. "Haven't you worked it out yet, kid? You don't need to bow or scrape to any of us. Why do you think you have to do that, anyway?"

"Because…because I'm not worthy," Suzue admitted.

Haruka chuckled. "Still don't get it, do you? Kiddo, you're a Senshi. You have been chosen! That _makes_ you worthy. Understand?" Suzue started to answer, but Haruka cut her off. "Or, at least, it means that you'd _better_ be worthy. Understand _that_?"

"…I think so." Suzue hoped she did not sound as daunted as she felt.

"Good. Then where's your sword?"

"My—?"

"Damn it, don't try to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." The elder Senshi frowned at her. "The Space Sword. Where is it?"

"I—I'm sorry." Definitely daunted, now. "I don't know." Suzue's head was whirling; there was a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. To be found wanting by her predecessor—!

Haruka stared at her mercilessly; there was a hard glint in her eye. "No?" she challenged. "And here I thought you were the one who knew everything about the old days. Isn't it your religious duty?"

At that, something seemed to break inside Suzue. She found that she was tired of people speaking down to her. "No," she snapped back. "My duty is to serve the Blessed Lady. Turning myself into…into some kind of walking encyclopaedia is strictly optional!"

To her surprise, Haruka burst out laughing. "So," the older woman said, "you do have a spark in you. That's good. All the same—" She sobered, and went on, "That sword is your birthright. It's your talisman; it's the ultimate expression of your power—and you're going to need it. I think you know that, really."

Suzue did not answer for a moment, collecting herself. To her surprise, she found that she did know. "…Yes. But how do I find it?"

"That's the trick, isn't it?" Haruka's grin became something more contemplative. "I was never really very good at this, but…true strength comes from within," she said slowly. "You have to look for it inside yourself. Search for a way to tap the passion of your pure heart." She paused. "Even that may not be enough. But when you need it, the sword will answer."

"All right." Suzue did not really understand, but it seemed the safest answer. "I'll try."

"Good. In that case—huh?" Haruka broke off suddenly and looked over her shoulder, as if hearing something that Suzue could not. Then she turned back with a wry look. "Sorry. Time's up; I have to go. I'd give you some last-minute advice, but…hell, you'll find your own answers. That's probably for the best, anyway."

She hesitated for an instant, then said, "One last thing, though. Go easy on Michiru, will you?"

"Michiru?…You mean Lady Kaiou?"

"Yeah. Try not to give her too hard a time, when you meet her. She couldn't accept how things ended, you see. It'll be hard for her, when she realises I haven't come back." She shook her head…then gave Suzue a wicked smirk. "Give her a hug from me—but no kissing!"

Then, without warning, she was gone. Moments later, the blue void vanished too, and Suzue found herself lying in bed. She wondered for a while if any of it had been real, but then her eyes closed and she passed the nest of the night in peaceful sleep.

- - -

Beth dreamed, and knew that she was dreaming. Her forehead tingled, as if someone had touched it, but nobody was there.

She was standing by the seashore, wearing a rather daring bathing suit that she was sure she had never seen before, but which she decided instantly that she loved. The sun was bright and warm, the sand golden, the sea a pure, rich blue, and there was just a hint of breeze. Best of all, she had the beach to herself. She stood ankle-deep in foaming water as a wave rolled up the beach, breathed the fresh salt air, and decided that she had never felt so happy.

Then a shadow fell across her, and she looked up into a pair of dazzling blue eyes and a wide smile.

"Hi!" said Aino Minako. She stood next to Beth on the sand, wearing a jaunty gold-coloured bikini. The sun shone brightly on her hair, and her crimson ribbon bobbed in the breeze.

"Oh," said Beth, startled. "I thought I was—"

"Yeah." Minako looked out along the beach, and sighed in contentment. "But it's too nice a day to be alone in a place like this, don't you think? And I wanted to say hello."

"Um, okay." Beth cocked her head to one side, suddenly uncertain. "It…it is you, isn't it? You look different in the anime."

Minako's eyes went very wide. "There's an anime?" she said. "They finally made an anime about us? That's so great!" She blinked. "And I can't see it! That's so unfair!" A heartbeat later, before Beth could even open her mouth to answer, she added, "So what's it like? Am I any good?"

"Oh. Well—" They ambled along the beach, and Beth started to tell her all about 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi.' Minako stopped her when she got to the evil Queen Ryoko and her space pirates.

"Okay," she said, her face perfectly straight. "So it sounds like they've changed one or two tiny details." She gave a melodramatic sigh. "All the same. An anime about us, and I can't even see it. That is so _unfair_!"

"Well, maybe you can," said Beth cautiously, remembering what Serenity had told her earlier. "I mean, if I'm really you, or you're really me, then when I watch it, you watch it too."

"Ooh, deep. I'm just going to pretend I understood that, okay?" Minako grinned at her. "But let's be serious for a moment, huh? Tell me…how are things going for you? I heard something about a boyfriend."

"What?" Beth stared at her in dismay. "They're talking about that in the _afterlife_?"

"Aha! Tell me all!"

"Oh—" Beth opened her mouth, then shook her head. "No," she said. "That's over. He never liked me in the first place; and anyway, he's got Nana-chan."

Minako nodded wisely. "The classic love triangle," she said gravely. "All that's missing is for one of you to commit suicide."

"I, ahh…I don't think we're going to do that." Beth sneaked a look at the other girl from the corner of her eye, and tried desperately to think of a way to change the subject. Inspiration struck her. "Anyway, it's not like I'm the only one with troubles. Just a little while ago, I saw Ochiyo-san—that's, er, the new Sailor Moon—deep-kissing her own _father_! With _tongue_!"

"Ew." Minako gave her a dubious look of her own. "You know what? The Senshi of Love is _so_ not going to touch that one."

Beth nodded, satisfied. Cautiously, she said, "Aino-sama…why are you here?"

"Oh, you know." The other girl tossed her hair carelessly. "I wanted to say hello, see what the new me is like. That sort of thing. After all, there's no reason we can't get along, is there? You know what they say: 'The grasshopper and the eagle can never be more than friends.'"

"Um. I don't think they do say that, do they?"

"Oh, whatever. Why is everyone always so nitpicky? You know what I meant!"

"Actually…no, I don't think I—"

"Anyway, I just wanted to say…ah. Now, what was it I wanted to say?" Minako pondered—and then suddenly looked around, startled, as if she had heard something. "Oh, damn. I don't have much time left. Look, I remember now. You know how the Queen told you you might be me, reborn?"

Abruptly, Beth was all ears. "Yes?"

"Well, just remember this—"

And then, without warning, she was gone. Beth stood alone on a golden beach, under a glorious summer sun. She looked back behind her, and saw to her dismay that there was only one set of footprints in the sand.

"Bother," she said.

Then the beach, too, was gone, and she realised that she was lying in bed, Bendis at her side. The cat was snoring again. She thought about waking Bendis up; but it was still dark outside, and in the end she simply turned over onto her side and closed her eyes again.

- - -

Ochiyo stood in Itsuko's office in the Olympus; but somehow, it was an office restored. The desk was upright again; the filing cabinets were closed, and all the papers that had littered the floor were gone. All the disorder and chaos from the night before had vanished, as if it had never been. She realised that she was dreaming. Her cheek seemed to tingle for a moment, as if at the memory of a touch.

The window stood open, and a cool, gentle breeze stirred her hair. Outside the window…something was different. She went over to look.

There was a city outside the window, one she had never seen before. It was a glittering metropolis of arches and spires, gardens and fountains, one more beautiful than anything she had ever seen before, and it shone in the sun as if it had been built out of glass. She looked down, and realised that her window was improbably high up in a vast tower of some kind. Far below, she could see things moving, and after a moment she realised that they were vehicles. They were flying through the air like Opals, rather than crawling along city streets.

She looked up again, out across the broad expanse of the crystal city, and said in wonder, "I know this place."

Behind her, an unfamiliar voice said, "Of course you do."

She whirled about, and saw a young woman seated at Itsuko's desk. She was even wearing one of Itsuko's business suits, but there any resemblance ended. Her face was rounder, broader than Itsuko's; her eyes were an unusual reddish colour; and her hair…her hair was done up in long, tapered odango, and it was pink.

Ochiyo said, "You're—"

The other held up a hand. "Word of warning. Call me 'Chibi-Usa' or 'Small Lady' and I will hurt you. Got it?"

"Oh. Right. Okay." Ochiyo cocked an eyebrow at her. "What _should_ I call you, then?"

Princess Usagi smiled. "'Oneesan' might be nice."

Ochiyo took a moment to consider this. "I'll have to think about that," she said. "It's funny; I already had this discussion with the queen."

"The queen our mother," said Usagi. She was not smiling now.

"_Your_ mother. I wonder if she's mine, in any meaningful way?"

"That is what I wanted to talk to you about," Usagi said, nodding. "And, well, I suppose I wanted to see what my sister is like, too. Because, little sister of mine, you might be unwilling to acknowledge the relationship, but _I'm_ not."

Ochiyo stared at her. Then she laughed. "All right," she said. "I won't argue—for now. But…word of warning. Call me 'Hikari' and I will hurt _you_. Got it?"

Usagi grinned back at her. "Got it."

Ochiyo turned and looked out the window again. After a moment she felt Usagi join her. "It's so beautiful. Is this really what Crystal Tokyo looked like?"

"Pretty much," said her sister. "It's the view from my bedroom window, actually."

"Wow. You lived a long way up." Ochiyo looked down again, and then back at the horizon. Almost afraid of what she would hear, she asked, "What was it like, living here? What…what were _they_ like? The Queen? And the King?"

Usagi did not answer at once. She stood at the window, her eyes closed, leaning out a little. The breeze stirred her hair. Very softly, she said, "I don't need to tell you about our parents. You've met them both; you'll make up your own mind. But this place?" She nodded to herself, slowly. "It was like a dream. A perfect dream, of a perfect day; a dream that you don't have to wake up from. Every day." Opening her eyes, she gazed at Ochiyo. "That's what the others have lost, you know—the ones who remember."

Ochiyo tried to look back into those reddish eyes, but after a few seconds she had to look away. "A perfect dream," she repeated, and something made her shudder. To lose perfection—

"I've been worrying," she admitted, and gestured out the window. "Sailor Uranus told me I'm a part of a plan. Is _this_ it? Am I supposed to rebuild all this?"

Usagi raised her eyebrows and laughed suddenly, and the stillness of the moment was broken. "Rebuild Crystal Tokyo? You've got a long way to go before you can think of that."

"Yes, but you know what I mean! Assuming we win…I'm supposed to be the heir to all this, right? Do I have a responsibility to bring it all back again?" After a heartbeat Ochiyo added, "Is it a good idea to even try?"

The pink princess grew thoughtful once more. "You don't have to choose right now, you know. You'll have years, probably. All the time you want." She stepped back from the window and leaned against the edge of Itsuko's desk. "It's different for you. Mother _knew_ what she was supposed to do. She'd seen it; she'd actually visited this time. Not that I think she had any regrets! But you…you can choose your own path. In a way, you're far freer than she ever was."

"Free to be queen…or not." And the princess had not exactly answered her question, Ochiyo noticed.

"Right." Usagi nodded. "As I said, you have time. Talk to the others; don't rush it. After all, you have things to do before you can even start!"

"Destroying the enemy."

"Well, that too. I was thinking, finding the Ginzuishou."

"Oh." Ochiyo's eyes narrowed.

"It is your inheritance, you know," Usagi said. "Just like the Golden Crystal was Father's, and the Pink—no, that's another story." She shook her head. "But you do need to find the Ginzuishou. You must know that! Of all the Sailor Crystals, it's the oldest, and the most powerful. _That_'s your real inheritance."

"Crystals," said Ochiyo. "Why does it always come down to crystals?"

Usagi smiled. "It's a mystery."

"All right, then. Where _is_ the Ginzuishou?"

"I can't—oh, bother." Usagi glanced over her shoulder abruptly, as if someone had called her. "I don't have much time left. Look—

"Little sister, I can't tell you where the Ginzuishou is; I don't know. Puu might be able to help you; ask her." She reached out, without warning, and took Ochiyo's hand. Her fingers felt warm, human…real. "But you don't need to be told," she said, and there was a sudden fierce intensity in her voice. "You already have everything you need, within you. Because you are my sister. You are the heir to the Moon Kingdom, and you are a Sailor Senshi. You are Sailor Mo—"

She was gone. Ochiyo stood alone in the office, and outside the window it was night, and the lights of Third Tokyo shone. Then even the office vanished, and she opened her eyes in her borrowed bed in Miyo's room.

She rose and padded down the corridor of Itsuko's apartment, through to the office—the real office. It was still a wreck. The door to the secret room still stood open, but inside now there was only darkness.

Oddly troubled, she went back to bed, and slept restlessly for the remainder of the night.

- - -

In a small room in her new house, Seki knelt down and bowed her head. Flames warmed her face: a dancing, flickering heat, from a renewed sacred fire.

The altar here was rough and rather makeshift, but in some indefinable way it almost seemed better for that. Less polished, less ancient, but perhaps more in touch with the world of today. She thought of Queen Serenity's words—'Look ahead of you, instead of behind'—and felt a quiet satisfaction.

The air was rich with wood-smoke. For the first time in many years she had actually been able to feed the sacred fire with real fuel, instead of the careful gas feed at the Olympus. The flames danced merrily, and she felt, looking into them, that they even _looked_ happier.

With an entirely unconscious smile, she closed her eyes, her head still bowed. She would meditate here for a few minutes more, and then finally get some sleep. All was well: the fire had been preserved; Makoto was home at last, asleep and dreaming in her own room; and here and now, in this moment, all was right with the world.

She opened her eyes again, for an instant—and in that moment she saw a new vision in the flames, and recoiled from it in horror. It was the future, she knew, absolute and inevitable. Blood and battle; a figure with glowing red eyes…and a fireball that blossomed in the darkness, and grew until it swallowed the heart of the city.

* * *

Sunrise at this time of year was a little before five o'clock. Dhiti woke at around half past, and stifled a groan. She felt groggy, her eyes hot and prickly…and it did not matter. Tired or not, she needed to get moving.

She was also, she found, both stiff and sore. It had been a while since she'd slept on a futon.

Sourly, she eyed Iku, still sound asleep, and poked out her tongue at the girl for stealing her bed. Then she grinned at herself, and pulled on a pair of jeans before waking the other girl.

Iku came awake with a start and a little cry of fear. Dhiti held up a finger to her lips, and she relaxed. "Time to get you home," Dhiti whispered. Iku winced, then silently nodded.

Iku's ankle seemed noticeably improved since the night before, but it was still too sore for her to walk on for long. Dhiti sighed to herself and changed to Sailor Mercury, then helped Iku out the window once more. She waved to Artemis, enjoying his irritated look in return, then lifted Iku onto her back and set out.

She could not move quite as fast with the girl on her back, and she did not want to try going over rooftops, so the trip took ten minutes or so. Iku murmured directions in her ear as they went. They took back streets, and it was early on a Sunday morning, but even so, twice she saw someone watching them from a window, and three cars slowed as they passed. Mercury could not quite decide whether to feel embarrassed or pleased at the spectacle she must be making.

As they neared Iku's house, she found a secluded spot and paused to let Iku down, then changed back to Dhiti again. She helped Iku to walk the last hundred metres, her arm about the girl's waist, Iku's arm looped around her neck.

"Okay," whispered Dhiti as they reached the door of the house. "Will you be all right, or do you want me to come—"

Before she could finish, the door suddenly opened. A woman stood looking out at them: middle-aged, with a touch of grey at her temples, she was lean like Iku and had the same deep brown eyes. Dhiti felt Iku stiffen at the sight of her.

"Iku!" the woman exclaimed. "Where have you _been_? I was about to call the police!" She stepped out and took Iku by the shoulders, pulling her close. "What in heaven's name have you been _doing_? And who's this?"

Dhiti cleared her throat, hoping to defuse the situation. "Excuse me, Kodama-san," she said, bowing. "My name is Sharma. I'm a friend of Iku-chan's from school." She looked up at the woman with what she hoped was the right hint of nervousness. "We, ah, we were having a sort of…impromptu sleepover last night, and I kind of persuaded Iku-chan to come out and…I'm sorry." She bowed again. "It was all my fault. We started dancing and she twisted her foot, and I had to help her home. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Hm." Iku's mother looked at her for rather a long time, and Dhiti started to feel genuinely nervous. Then the woman sighed, shaking her head. "Very well, Sharma-san," she said. "Thank you for your honesty. I can't say I'm pleased, but…well, we'll say no more about it this time. I suppose you two are hardly the first girls to get into a midnight scrape, are you?"

"Er, no," said Dhiti fervently.

The woman glanced at her watch. "It's still very early," she said. "Sharma-san, have you had breakfast? Would you like to come in?"

"Um. Thank you, but I'd better not," Dhiti said. "I'd better get back home before my own parents—um."

Iku's mother raised her eyebrows, and laughed. "All right, then," she said. "Another time, perhaps. Good-bye, Sharma-san." She drew Iku inside the house and closed the door.

Dhiti grinned to herself and started to jog back down the street. _Not a bad lady,_ she thought absently. _Iku-chan's lucky._

Then she glanced at her own watch and saw what time it was, and muttered an oath. She really did have to hurry, or her excuse would turn all too real. She started to run.

- - -

Inside the house, Iku's mother released her suddenly and the girl stumbled, almost falling. It hurt her ankle and she winced, but she made no sound. Head lowered and one hand on the wall to hold herself up, she started meekly down the corridor for her room.

A hand fell heavily on her shoulder and the fingers tightened, digging in painfully. A moment later she was slammed back against the wall, brutally hard. She could not restrain a whimper of fear.

"Iku, Iku, Iku," said her mother. All the warmth was gone from her voice. Her eyes were cold, and there was an ugly smile on her face.

"What _are_ we going to do with you?"

* * *

"So," said Twelve. "Very enterprising of them. They got away clean?"

"Yes," said the chairman, laying down his commset. It had been a busy half hour, trying to find out exactly what had happened. "The main building's security cameras show nothing. The underground lab cameras show two intruders, but—" He shrugged. "There's the usual problem. We can't even make out which Senshi they were."

"But you say your pet _didn't_ escape with them?"

"Apparently not; but she's gone all the same. We still don't know how—or where."

"More and more interesting." Twelve give him a vulpine grin. "I'm sure I'll enjoy the cover story you come up with, to explain all the damage they did. In the meantime…what about the computer systems?"

"Wiped clean." The chairman studied his gloved hands. "We still don't know how they did that, either. Our techs have tried to restore the system from off-site backups, but when the backup volume was mounted, _it_ got erased too. They say they're investigating."

"The Senshi did us a favour, then. Your little project is gone." She gave him a scornful look. "Don't think the inventor is off the hook, though. I still want that name.

"For now—" She shook her head, and started to laugh: that horrible, grating laugh that was like fingernails on a blackboard. "I wonder if they even realise how little damage they did? A trashed laboratory and a few lost files—how very heroic of them!" She snorted. "The computers will be repaired soon enough. They can just be _replaced_, if need be. The most significant thing that happened last night was the loss of your pet, and that wasn't even their doing! And even that may help us, in the long run."

She shot the chairman a vicious grin. "So I wonder. Do they know how futile their little expedition was? Do you think they have any idea just how _ineffectual_ they were?"

The chairman shrugged, but Twelve was no longer paying any attention to him. Her eyes were far-off. "No…I think we have nothing to complain about. They've destroyed nothing vital. More importantly—"

She looked down at him again, and the jewel on her forehead gave a pulse of baleful light. She started to laugh once more. "They have accepted the Master's gauntlet! And now—now it will be war between us!"

**SAILOR MOON 4200  
End Of Chapter Thirteen**

**Next:** The breaking and forging of relationships; happy families;   
a new beginning for a masked man; and the first battle of the war.

* * *

_Sincere thanks to the pre-readers who helped improve this chapter: Chris Angelini, Chester Castenada, Jed Hagen, Amanda Lange, David McMillan, Bert Miller, Aaron Nowack, Helmut Ott, Jamie Smith, Joshua Stratton, Steve "Komodo" T._


	16. Chapter 14: Family

**What has gone before:**

Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in the year 3478. Civilisation fell; a dark age began. Now, the year 4200 is a time of renaissance, and the city of Third Tokyo is defended by a new generation of Senshi. Some of them are old faces, reborn yet again. Others are newcomers. But all of them are in trouble—because the enemy that annihilated Crystal Tokyo was never defeated. And it is waiting for them…

**In recent chapters:**

Itsuko (now calling herself Seki) returns to the Olympus to retrieve the sacred fire. 'S' Division are waiting for her and she is arrested. The Senshi come to the rescue, but 'S' Division have a prototype anti-Senshi weapon and Jupiter is badly hurt. Then a pack of vitrimorphs attack the office, and are only destroyed when Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen finally arrive. After the battle the ghost of Queen Serenity appears and speaks to each of the Senshi; she also erases all memories of the incident from the 'S' Division group. The Senshi finally work out that the Council is their enemy, and Sailor Moon leads them all in an attack on 'M' Division (where the anti-Senshi prototype was developed). There, while the other Senshi cause a lot of impressive but ultimately ineffectual damage, Mars and Mercury meet M (or Emma), an elderly woman who tells them she is the "real" research department at 'M' Division. Telling Mercury and Mars to leave, Emma erases all of 'M' Division's computers and then mysteriously vanishes herself. As the Senshi retreat, Sailor Uranus privately admits to Moon that she belongs to the Church of Serenity; and when Iku arrives home, she is met by a cold, abusive parent…

* * *

**Sailor Moon 4200**

By Angus MacSpon

_Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi_

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Family  
(I Love You I Hate You)_

"She said that?" demanded Bendis. "Queen Serenity said that? Really?"

Beth stifled yet another yawn, giving the cat a sour look. She had had far too little sleep to be able to deal with a hyperactive cat this morning. "Yes," she said glumly. "Apparently I really _am_ Lady Aino reborn." The idea gave her a strange feeling: as if a great piece of her life had been torn away and now belonged to someone else. She did not much like it.

"No, no. The other bit. She said she's watched me? Really?"

Beth started to regret ever mentioning that she'd met the ghost of Queen Serenity last night. She finished buttoning her shirt and said, "Yes…she said that too. But, Bendis—"

"Ha!" the cat exclaimed, and leaped forward to pounce on an unsuspecting pillow. "Take _that_, Artemis!"

Beth sighed and said, "You know, you're going to have to patch things up with him someday."

"Nope," said Bendis gaily. "Not gonna happen. Who cares about him, anyway? Don't you know what this means? I'm _official_!" She celebrated by sinking down on her haunches, tail waving slowly, and then murdering the pillow once more.

_Oh, no. Is she using her claws again? I have to __sleep_ on that.

Beth badly wanted to talk to someone, but clearly Bendis was no longer listening, and this morning she lacked the energy to keep trying. Yawning again, she gave the conversation up as a bad job and went out to the kitchen for breakfast.

Her mother tried to talk to her about something as she ate, but Beth did not pay much attention. Her mind was on other things.

月

Later, she went out running in an attempt to clear her mind. A couple of kids were playing right outside her front gate, and she nearly tripped over one of them as she left the house. Annoyed, she started to round on them, but they simply fell back, watching her. Beth gave them a puzzled look, then gave up and started to jog away. They had been scrawling with chalk on the pavement outside her gate, she noticed with a grimace.

She passed by Tomoe Park and grinned as she remembered being there a couple of weeks before, fantasising about chasing birds. Then her grin faded and she came to a stop, wiping sweat from her forehead. Had it been _her_ back then, thinking that? Or had it been Aino Minako? Was Lady Aino the sort of woman who had…well, chased birds?

She started to run again, vaguely aware that she was being silly. All the same, what did she actually know about Lady Aino? According to the 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi' anime she had been leader of the Senshi, an all-star international athlete, and an ace mecha pilot. But in Beth's dream last night, Minako had told her that the anime makers might have changed a couple of minor details.

Maybe she ought to finally read that 'Secret Warriors' book that Bendis had been nagging her about. Maybe next week, when the holidays—

She ran into something solid, head-first, as she rounded a corner. The breath was jolted from her lungs. She stumbled backwards, clutching her nose, barely able to see for a moment. When she finally looked up, she saw a young man dressed in jogging shorts, sprawled on the ground. He was holding his own nose, and looking up at her accusingly.

_Oops,_ she thought. Out loud she said, "Sorry! Are you all right?"

He removed his hand from his nose, inspected it, and finally lost the scowl. "It's okay," he said, climbing to his feet. "My fault too, I expect."

He was a Claver like her, she noticed. Tall, lean, dark-haired, about her own age, with a bit of an accent. Rather good-looking, in a smooth kind of way…no. Make that _quite_ good-looking.

"No harm done," she said. Her nose still throbbed, but it wasn't actually bleeding. A little hesitantly, she asked, "Where were you headed?"

"Oh—" He paused, then gave a funny little shrug. "Just out and about, really. Seeing what I could see."

"Hah. I just had to get away from my cat," she said without thinking. She saw his confusion and added hastily, "And anyway, it's too nice a day to stay in."

"Yeah, it is." He cocked an eyebrow at her, and grinned. "Which Enclave?"

That was a common question, from one Claver to another. "Dunedin," she said. "My great-grandparents. You?"

"Alaskay—originally," he said, and laughed as if at some private joke. "I just came here a few months ago." He shook his head and took a deep breath. It did interesting things to his chest. "Anyway, I should keep moving. Good-bye then, Miss Cat."

"Hey!" Beth said indignantly; but she could not quite conceal her smile at the title. And then, quite suddenly, she made up her mind. She did not want to spend the rest of the day alone, trying to cope with a solicitous family and a hyperactive Bendis, and not knowing who she was any more. She wanted to feel…normal.

It didn't hurt, of course, that he was nice-looking. And polite. And handsome. And…

And he wasn't Eitoku, and that was good.

She cocked an eye at him and asked, "Could you use some company?" He looked startled, and she smiled back at him. There had been a time when she would never have spoken out like that. Well, not any more. Maybe it was the Minako in her.

After all, if it turned out that she _was_ actually Aino Minako, a cute guy was nothing more than her just desserts. And if she was only plain old Beth, well, didn't Beth deserve something too?

He gave her another look, frankly appraising. Then he smiled again. "Why not?" he said. "Which way were you going?"

She pointed, and they started to run. He was taller than her, and she had to push a little harder to keep pace with him, but that was all right. She didn't feel tired any longer. She had all the energy in the world.

"I'm Beth," she called out to him, a little breathlessly, and added, "You?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, and she could have sworn that the sunlight was dancing in his eyes. He answered, "Mark."

* * *

Ochiyo slept in. If she had been at home her parents would have woken her, but this was the Olympus and she could sleep as late as she liked. And it _had_ been a long night.

When she did wake, she sat up and blinked around the bedroom, wondering where Miyo was. The whole apartment was strangely quiet, actually, and something was missing: all of Miyo's belongings were gone. Had they been burgled again? Had the Masked Avenger come back? She opened her mouth to call out—

Then she remembered. Miyo was Makoto now, and she and Itsuko (no, Seki) had had to leave. Ochiyo had, rather cheekily, spent the night in an empty apartment. Well, empty for a while, anyway.

Oh, and she—Aizawa Ochiyo—was Sailor Moon. She had known it for a few days already, but still, that one was going to take a little getting used to.

She got out of bed and padded down the corridor to the bathroom. As she showered, she thought about the previous night: the battle, the discussions that had followed, and the raid on 'M' Division. She wondered what the government would make of the mess they had left, and grinned.

Then there was the matter of her new companions. It helped that she knew some of them already—and at last she finally knew why Miyo (no, Makoto) had come to live with Seki. That had been puzzling her for a long time. Though trying to remember to think of them by their new names was getting quite annoying.

And there were the others: the absurd Dhiti and the extravagant Beth, apparently competing for which of them was going to be the team clown. The odd, silent Iku, who gave the impression of being afraid all the time, but who hadn't hesitated to risk her life saving Ochiyo's. And Suzue, who believed that Ochiyo was the daughter of a goddess. That had been oddly affecting, as a matter of fact: seeing her classmate bow down before her, in all sincerity. Ochiyo wasn't sure how she was going to handle the situation, just yet, but she would probably know when the moment came. She usually did.

Oh, and there was the mysterious Tuxedo Kamen. Who had been romancing her in secret for a long time now—and who last night had kissed her, and gotten her all hot and sweaty. And…who turned out to be her father from a past life, reborn. That one was a little disturbing, to tell the truth, and she tightened her lips at the memory. She gathered that he probably didn't remember who he was, and probably thought that she was his dead wife; but all the same, if he tried that again she was going to kick his balls up past his ears.

She stepped out of the shower and dressed, wrapping her hair in a towel. So: over the course of a few days she had learned that she was the heir to a long-dead kingdom; acquired a team of Senshi; and now the government of Japan was trying to kill her with giant crystalline monsters. There was a hell of a beginning, if you liked.

Wasn't there something missing from this whole scenario, though? Under her breath, she muttered to herself, "If I'm Sailor Moon, I thought the position was supposed to come with a cat."

Still pensive, she went down to the end of the corridor and looked through the door into Itsuko's—no, Seki's office. By daylight, it was even more of a wreck than she had remembered from the night before. She had been half-hoping it was all a dream.

She shook her head and turned to go, and then paused as an odd detail caught her eye.

Among all the broken furniture, crystal fragments, papers and other litter that strewed the floor, there were what looked like piles of rags here and there. Ochiyo hesitated, then went into the room and looked at one of them. To her surprise, it looked like the remains of a man's jacket and shirt. But it was ripped almost to shreds, as if it had been inflated like a balloon until it burst. As if the wearer had suddenly…enlarged.

The idea made her think of the night before. She had not been present when the vitrimorphs arrived, but there had been four of them. And—she glanced around the room again. There were four piles of tattered clothes.

"Huh," she said to herself. On impulse, she rummaged through the clothes and checked the pockets. Who knew what a vitrimorph might have been carrying?

To her surprise, she found something in the jacket's inside pocket. A little mock-leather wallet. She flipped it open and found an ID card. KASAMATSU AMANE, it said. Apparently a member of something called the Technical Enforcement Network.

None of it meant anything to her, but the others might know more. She tucked the wallet into her own pocket, glanced around the office once more, and then, with a faint shudder, took a few of the crystal shards as well. Wiping her hand on the seat of her pants, she hurried out the office.

Once the wreckage was out of sight, she realised that she was hungry. She went through to the kitchen and helped herself to breakfast. That made everything feel better. When she was done, she started to leave the dishes; but then she had a sudden mental image of Seki's expression. Making a face, she carefully cleaned up after herself, and found herself wondering if she ought to re-stock the pantry.

All right, so sleeping here had been a little presumptuous. True, Seki hadn't actually said anything after the battle last night; but still, with more than a little regret, Ochiyo decided that she had probably better not do it again.

_Anyway,_ she thought, _if Seki-san is really on the run, the police will probably seal the place up._

She started getting ready to go, reflecting that if she couldn't sleep here, then she was going to have to stop working late shifts at the gymnasium. It was a pity, she had quite enjoyed them; but it couldn't be helped. But it did mean that the duty rosters would need to be rearranged; she would have to mention it to—

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt. Talk to whom? Who was in charge at the Olympus now, anyway? With its owner mysteriously vanished, what would happen to the gymnasium, and all the people who worked there? Who would take over?

_Please, please, let it not be Yukimi._ Feeling somewhat disgruntled, she went down to catch the bus home.

The trip was just long enough to make her feel sleepy again, and she was yawning as she went inside. The house was quiet, but she could hear a chopping sound from the kitchen. She dropped off her satchel in her room and headed toward the sound.

Her mother looked up from slicing vegetables and remarked, "You're late." The air in the kitchen was warm, and something smelled delicious. In the background, the radio played softly.

"I slept in," Ochiyo said, and yawned again. "Extra-late night last night."

Aizawa Nozomi raised her eyebrows. "These late nights of yours bother me. It's not so bad when it's on the weekend, but—"

"Yeah, I know, I know." Ochiyo opened the pantry door and started to rummage. She'd already had breakfast, but the smells in the kitchen were making her hungry again…and there was always room for a little more. "Actually, I may have to stop the late-night shifts."

"Oh? Why?"

One of the cake tins was suggestively heavy. She opened it, and made a face. "Oh, yecch. Carrot cake, again?"

"Some of us like it, dear. Why do you have to stop the late-night shifts? Is it a problem with that girl you have to share a room with?"

Ochiyo had planned out an excuse during the bus ride home, but now, suddenly sure that it would be a mistake, she abandoned it. She put the cake tin down and said, "No, not exactly. Actually, Itsuko-san and Miyo-san weren't there. Nobody at the Olympus knows where they've gone; it's like they've disappeared. The police have been looking for them." Almost as an afterthought she added, "Why not chocolate cake for a change?"

"The police?" Nozomi looked up, startled. "My goodness. Do they think they've been murdered?"

"I don't know, I wasn't there when they searched the apartment. Yukimi-san says she thinks Itsuko-san is a criminal on the run!" Ochiyo snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure _she_ knows what's going on."

"Don't be silly; I've met Itsuko-san. I expect it's just a misunderstanding, dear." Her mother went back to her chopping, paused, and looked up again. "Wait a moment, you spent the night there when Itsuko-san wasn't even home?"

"Uh. Well—"

"And when _the police had been searching the apartment_?"

"All right, so maybe it wasn't the best idea!" Ochiyo retorted. "But what else was I supposed to do? It's not like I don't have permission to be there. Itsuko-san gave me the door code and everything."

"I hardly think this was what she had in mind, though," replied Nozomi. "Really, Ochiyo! What if the police had come again this morning? You could have been in a lot of trouble." Her brow wrinkled. "In fact, if Itsuko-san really is in some kind of trouble, you might be better off leaving the gymnasium for good."

The girl stared at her. "Quit my _job_? I don't want to do that!"

"Hmm. We'll see. Maybe I should call 'P' Division and see if I can find anything out. That Lieutenant Nishihara is nice and friendly."

Ochiyo was beginning to regret ever opening her mouth. "But—" she began. Then she stopped. She had a feeling that anything she said now was just going to make things worse.

Besides, from what she'd heard last night, the police weren't likely to know much anyway. She hoped.

Nozomi gave her a quizzical look. "You still look tired, dear. Did you get enough sleep?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied Ochiyo. "Just how late a night did you have, anyway? You didn't just sit up watching the viddy, with nobody else around, did you?"

"No!" Ochiyo protested, a little too fast.

"I _see_. Well, that's settled: no more late shifts for _you_, young lady. Not until Itsuko-san gets back and gets all this cleared up. She's a sensible one, at least." Nozomi sniffed. "Though it's high time she settled down and started a family. That woman isn't getting any younger."

Ochiyo thought about this, and giggled.

"Now, why don't you go and get some more sleep? I'll give you a call when lunch is ready."

"Okay, okay." She yawned. "I guess I wouldn't mind a nap."

"That's good." Nozomi returned to her chopping board and went back to dissecting a pumpkin for vegetable soup. As Ochiyo started to leave, her mother added, almost casually, "I don't make chocolate cake very often because you'd just eat it all and get fat, dear. The rest of us wouldn't get a crumb."

Ochiyo whirled around. Her mother's eyes were still on the pumpkin she was slicing, but she was smiling faintly. Ochiyo stared at her for a second. Then she went over to the bench and hugged the woman. "Thanks, Mom."

Nozomi's smile widened, just a fraction. "Sleep well, dear."

Ochiyo released her and started out the door again. As she went, the song on the radio ended and a voice began, "Now the eleven o'clock news headlines. Last night, a group of vandals broke into 'M' Division offices—"

* * *

Dhiti woke up to find Artemis sitting on the foot of her bed, staring at her. Her eyes snapped wide open. Over the last week she had gotten some practise in reading the cat's expression, and the glare he was levelling at her now did not look friendly.

She thought about throwing her pillow at him and going back to sleep. Instead she pushed back the covers and sat up. "Hi," she said, a little muzzily, and yawned. "Did I do something wrong, or did you get up the wrong side of the kitty litter today?"

"Wrong?" he responded stiffly. "Let me see. You go running off in the middle of the night to save Itsuko and don't come back for _hours_. But that's okay; why would I be worried? I'm just a cat. No need to call me up and let me know what's happening." He glared at her. "Then when you _do_ get home, you've obviously been in serious action, and you've got Iku with you and she's been _hurt_…but there's still no time to say a word to the cat, oh no—"

"Okay, okay!" said Dhiti. They'd had this conversation before. She rubbed her eyes, sighing, and went on, "Just keep it down, will you? My parents are downstairs. Look, we were busy last night! I never had a chance to call you, that's all."

A moment too late, she remembered that that wasn't exactly true. There had been a few points where she could have called him…if she'd remembered. But she'd been a little distracted; and besides—

"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly. "How am I supposed to call you, anyway? You can't exactly answer a commset."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "I have a communicator, of course. Now, can we have done with the Twenty Questions, and talk about what happened last night?"

"You have a communicator? How come I've never seen it?" Dhiti blinked. "Come to think of it, where do you even _keep_ it—? Oh, all right." She yawned again, climbed out of bed, and gave him a quick summary of the night's events as she pulled on her clothes. Artemis primly kept his back turned while she dressed, but his ears were pricked up and his tail held high as he listened.

"Serenity was _there_?" he demanded at one point, incredulous.

"No, my mistake, it was the Ghost of Christmas Past. He, the Easter Bunny and the Midsummer Mujina wanted to invite us to a clambake." Dhiti rolled her eyes. "Yes, she was there! Sort of. More like her ghost, I think."

Artemis was no longer listening. His ears and tail were drooping; he looked as if he had just been struck in the face by a worldful of bad news. As if—well, as if someone had died. In a low, dismal voice, he said, "She was there…and I missed her? Oh, Serenity…"

"Yeah, and I didn't even get her autograph," retorted Dhiti without a trace of sympathy. She was far too short of sleep this morning; if there was one thing she was not prepared to tolerate, it was a maudlin cat. "C'mon, what do you expect? You couldn't've come with me; you'd never have been able to keep up on foot, and I can't just go carrying you around my neck or something. It'd…it'd look unnatural."

He shot her a mutinous look. "Minako used to do it," he muttered.

"Uh—right." Dhiti decided to ignore that. She eyed him for a moment and said, "You could just turn human, you know. You'd be able to get around a lot of places a cat can't."

Artemis glanced away. "I…don't do that any more."

"Huh?"

"Turn human." He looked back at her, but would not meet her eyes. "Not since Luna died. I…don't even like to think of it any more."

Dhiti paused, remembering his story of how the black Moon Cat had died: in womanly form, helping defend the Crystal Palace. Then something occurred to her. "Wow. You've…been pining for her, haven't you? Both of them, Luna and Lady Aino. For the last seven hundred years."

"Pining?" Artemis gave her a suspicious look. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just, ah…struck by synchronicity, that's all." Dhiti grinned. "You know, you ought to talk to Seki-san about this. She might have some surprising insights into your problem."

"Sometimes," the cat said frostily, "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Who is Seki-san?"

"Oh, right. Let's see, now…" She thought for a moment and then went on, narrating the events of the evening before. In the spirit of pure mischief, she left out Itsuko's part in the interviews with the queen: her confession of love for Serenity, and her later impassioned defence of her feelings. Let the cat find out for himself; it might do him some good. Pining, forsooth!

(Anyway, she thought privately, she was not sure she could do justice to that part of the story. The sight of the stern, haughty Itsuko on her knees before the queen, crying, had been…kind of moving. Dhiti decided that she wanted to think about that one a bit more, privately, before she talked to anyone else about it.)

She breezed through much of the rest of what had happened, but slowed down again when she got to the raid on 'M' Division. That needed more explanation, to tell him how Iku had been hurt and why the girl had spent the rest of the night in Dhiti's room, until Dhiti took her back home early in the morning.

When she finished at last, she waited for the cat's response. None came for some time. Artemis sat on the bed in an almost formal posture, eyes closed, completely motionless except for the tip of his tail, which twitched back and forth as he thought.

Eventually he spoke. "So," he said, "you raided 'M' Division, destroyed a couple of offices, and smashed up all the equipment in a workshop. You also beat up some security guards, broke into a top-secret lab, and prompted the scientist there to erase all of 'M' Division's computer records. Is that what you're saying?"

"Umm…" Dhiti hesitated. "More or less. But when you put it like that—"

"Tell me," he interrupted, "what did Itsu—no, what did, ah, Seki have to say about this plan?"

"Oh, she was against it. She thought we ought to at least do some more investigation first. Uh…why?"

"Because," the cat said, his voice rising, "it's comforting to know that at least one person last night managed to _keep a vestige of sanity_!"

Dhiti stared at him blankly. "You don't think it was a good idea?"

Artemis took a deep breath. "No," he ground out, "I do not think it was a good idea. Even supposing you're right that the Serenity Council are our enemy, do you have any idea how this is going to _look_? The Senshi are supposed to be heroes! Not petty vandals!"

"But—"

"What did you think you were doing there? Striking back, you said? Against who? What enemies did you think you were fighting? None of them were _there_! You weren't fighting anyone at all—you were acting like cheap thugs!"

"Hey!" Dhiti protested. "They attacked us, remember? We were just striking back!"

"And what a strike it was!" he shot back. "You smashed up a workshop. Yeah, that'll show 'em! That'll teach them what they're up against, all right! They must be shaking in their boots now!" He shook his head, groaning. "It's as if someone bullied you, and you tried to get even by going and kicking his little brother. Dhiti, you're supposed to be the smart one. Why don't you _think_? What's going to happen when this gets out? When people hear that the Senshi have been burglarising an office building and writing their _names_ on the wall? You're going to become a laughing-stock!"

Dhiti finally lost her temper. She did not do it often, she hated the loss of control…but it had been a very long night. "All right, then!" she snarled. "So we screwed up! Go ahead and rub it in! At least we were _doing_ something, instead of just sitting around wondering what the bad guys were going to do next!" She glared at him, fists clenched. "And don't you tell me you couldn't have gotten to the Olympus last night if you'd wanted to. You _decided_ not to go. And if you hadn't—who knows? You might have gotten to see your precious queen after all."

Artemis stared back at her, his fur bristling. For a perilous moment, she thought something dreadful was going to happen. Then, in a low, half-choked voice, he said, "I've…got to go. I need to talk to Itsuko about this."

He leaped from the bed to the windowsill, and then out. Dhiti ran over to the window and saw him land on the ledge a metre down, then spring to a fence-post and down to the ground.

"Her name is Seki now!" she yelled down at him. "And you don't even know where she lives!"

He ignored her. She saw him stalk over to a narrow gap in the fence, and then he was gone.

月

By the time Dhiti had showered and dressed, she felt calmer. All the same, she was in a scratchy mood as she went downstairs. Seeing her father sitting in his favourite armchair, reading the morning paper, did not help.

"Good morning," he said without looking up, precisely as her foot hit the bottom step.

She jerked at the words and then scowled, but it was a familiar scowl. He had been pulling that trick on her since she was a small child, and she had never yet worked out how. "Good morning, Father," she muttered in return.

"You slept late this morning," he observed, still apparently intent on his paper.

"I had a late night," she returned shortly. He was always like this. It drove her up the wall.

"And, regrettably, I am forced to wonder who you were shouting at, up in your room. I was not aware that we had a guest."

Dhiti hesitated, just for an instant. She tried to hide it, but she knew he would have noticed. Sharma Praket was a very observant man when he wanted to be. "No," she said. "I was shouting at the cat."

"Ah." Imperturbably, her father turned a page. "Well, I am sure you had good reason. I kept white mice when I was a boy," he added in a musing tone, "but I do not recall ever feeling the need to shout at them."

"Yeah, well, did your white mice ever puke up hairballs?"

"Mm, no. Perhaps you have a point there." Praket gave a thin smile, still without looking up. "I am glad your pet is proving to be educational, then."

"Oh, he's educational, all right," Dhiti mumbled. Artemis did not leave hair-balls, thankfully; or, at least, he had not done so yet. She would have to ask him about the subject when he got back, she mused, and the thought of his probable reaction did much to cheer her up.

If he came back at all, of course.

She left the room before her father could answer. If there was one person in the world who could make her feel completely inadequate, it was him. Grumbling to herself, she headed through to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

She found her mother there, working on a sinkful of dishes. She was humming softly to herself as she worked, the way she often did. The tune was familiar, although Dhiti could not place it immediately. For some reason, though, it sounded comforting.

A moment later her stomach rumbled, and she set the mystery song aside. "Hi, Amma," she said, opening the pantry and rummaging inside for breakfast. She filled a bowl with muesli and spooned yoghurt from the fridge over the top, then sat down at the table to eat.

Sharma Salila looked around, stopping her humming. "Good morning," she said. "I thought I heard voices before. Were you arguing with Miyo-san again?"

"I, uh. Was talking with a friend, yeah. Sorry."

"It's no bother." Salila brushed a stray hair from her eyes. "But you should make up with her, sweetheart. Fighting is bad for you." She held Dhiti's eyes until, reluctantly, the girl nodded. Then, with a smile, she went back to her dishes. After a moment, she started to hum again.

Dhiti returned to her breakfast, grinning in spite of herself. As she ate, the tune caught her attention once more. Why was it so familiar? She found herself humming along with it.

Then, suddenly, she remembered where she had heard it before. It was a lullaby, one her mother had sung to her countless times when she was small. A silly, sentimental thing, but still…hearing it again now made her feel warm, and happy.

She realised that she was smiling at the memory, and after a little she joined in the refrain.

__

By and by, my darling,  
Sun will come again.  
There'll be golden mornings  
After days of rain…

They finished the song together. As Dhiti started to get up, her mother reached over and neatly plucked the empty plate and spoon from in front of her and slid them into the sink. Dhiti watched her for a minute. On impulse, she leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek.

Salila looked around, a little surprised at the gesture—it was not something Dhiti did often—and smiled fondly back at her daughter. "Feeling better?" she asked.

Dhiti nodded.

"Good. Now, you go back upstairs," she said, "and call Miyo-san again. Make up your quarrel. After everything that's happened, that girl needs her friends." She nodded once, for emphasis, and then turned back to her dishes. Within a few seconds, she was humming once more.

Dhiti headed back up to her room. Her smile faded as she went. She felt like a fraud. Miyo needed her friends now, sure, but she wasn't the one Dhiti had been shouting at. It was Artemis that she really needed to apologise to. Because—damn it—Artemis had been right.

He wasn't there when she got to her room, of course.

In an effort to distract herself, she reached out and turned on her radio. It came on in the middle of a news report and she almost changed the station, but something made her listen.

"—eleven o'clock news headlines. Last night, a group of vandals broke into 'M' Division offices and caused several million yen worth of damage to laboratory tools and instruments, some of which were used to maintain vital hospital equipment. There is no information yet on how much was stolen. A spokesman for 'M' Division stated that he suspects drunken hooligans were responsible, and he beseeches those responsible to give themselves up to avoid a scandal." A pause. "Reports are still coming in of injuries incurred during the Zarigani Mall disaster. Yesterday afternoon, the—"

Dhiti snapped the radio off, rolled over onto her back, and stared at the ceiling.

"Well," she said savagely, "that's just _great_."

* * *

Iku knelt in the dark and tried to hold in her misery.

She was naked, and alone, and the basement was dim and cold. Even in the height of summer, it never warmed up much down here; the insulation was excellent, and Mother loved air-conditioning. Iku huddled her arms around herself, but it did little to stop her shivering.

A thin, grey light filtered through a single, tiny, dirty glass window, and more came down the steps from the open kitchen door. Up above, she could hear the movement as her family bustled about, the clattering of dishes as they ate their breakfast. It made her feel even more forsaken.

She might have wept, but she did not dare make a sound. Every now and then, someone would come to the door and listen for a moment. If they heard anything, her punishment would only get worse. She knew from experience how much worse it could get.

She bowed her head down, loose hair hanging over her face. She clenched her fists as her body shook, and shed hot, silent tears.

_Dhiti-san, why did you bring me back…?_

She held herself for a long time, until the spasm ended. Then she lifted her hands to wipe the teardrops from her eyes. It did no good to cry. Nobody ever listened.

Besides, she already knew the answer to that unvoiced question. Dhiti had brought her back here because this was where she belonged. Alone, in the dark.

_If you want help,_ Serenity had told her, _you are surrounded by people who will do their utmost to give it._ Yes; oh, yes. This was the help they gave her. This was what she deserved, and she had been a fool to think, even for a moment, that there could be more.

_Dhiti-san…!_

She drew a long, shuddering breath, and almost gagged from the stench. Partly it was the smell of her own fear and unhappiness: dark, dismal and cloying, a scent she knew well. Partly it came from the pool in the corner, a metre or two away, where she had thrown up after the beating. But mostly it came from a much nearer source.

She had been down here for hours now; she was sure of that, though it was hard to know just how long. Sometimes in the past she had tried to keep track by counting to herself, but once she got above a few thousand it was so easy to slip. She seldom bothered nowadays. Her punishment would last as long as it lasted, and there was no use in trying to measure it. She might start looking forward to an ending, and that only gave her mother an extra tool to punish her with.

Another way to measure time was by how often she had to pee. This was one of the worst things about her punishment (though not the very worst). There was no bathroom in the cellar. Even if there had been one, she was not allowed to move from her kneeling position. She always hung on for as long as she could…and in the end, she always failed.

Her legs and feet were cold and wet. The smell was everywhere, inescapable. She drew it in with every breath. Every time, she hoped that she might get used to it eventually, but it never seemed to happen. It made her head swim, sometimes; it made her want to gag.

So she knelt in the dark in a pool of her own filth, alone and naked, hungry and thirsty and desperately weary, and waited. Waited for something to happen; for the punishment to end, or for someone to find a new way to hurt her. One way or another, the hurting never ended, and by now she knew that it never would.

Certainly her body ached. There was the endless dull throb of her sprained ankle that flared to bright hot pain when she moved it; the rippling cramps in her legs from holding this position for so long; and the sharper, harsher pain in her back from where her mother had beaten her. Oh, Mother was an expert in the art by now; the welts soon faded without leaving a mark. By tomorrow, or the next day at the latest, Iku would be able to go back to school and, why, nobody would know that anything had happened at all.

Back to school, to face Beth and Nanako and the others; back to watch them talk and laugh, and know that this was something she did not deserve. She did not belong; she was the outsider, the unworthy one. The one who should never have been born.

Had she not been told, often enough? She knew that it was true.

So now she had learned another lesson, in misery and pain like all the rest. And oh, she had learned so many, over the years! Keep your head down. Be quiet. Don't talk; don't ask questions; don't call attention to yourself. You're not important, so stay in the background. If nobody knows you're there, they won't need to punish you…

That was how to keep going. That was the way to survive.

A sharp clatter of feet on the stairs made her head jerk up. Mother was coming down; and behind her, his usual arrogant smirk on his face, was her brother Masahiko. They reached the bottom, and Mother flipped the light switch on. Iku winced at the pain in her eyes, and tried to straighten up. Her ankle flared with new pain and she stifled a gasp.

The two of them stood, staring down at her in silence for a few seconds. Then Mother's nose wrinkled; she looked down at the puddle around Iku's legs, and made a revolted face.

"You filthy, disgusting sow!" she said, her voice thick with contempt. "Is there nothing you won't sink to? Have you no self-control at all?" She almost spat the words out. "Or do you actually _enjoy_ it? Wallowing in your own filth! That my own daughter should come to this."

Iku made no attempt to reply. She had not been given permission to speak. And it was nothing she had not heard before.

Her brother, for his part, said nothing. He only stood there at Mother's side and watched Iku, smirking. His eyes paused briefly on her breasts, dropped to her groin, and then returned. His mouth opened for a moment and he licked his lips.

Here was a new terror, one that had been growing slowly over the last few months. Masahiko was younger than her, only thirteen years old. He did his share of tormenting her, joining her mother with punches, kicks and insults of his own. Already he showed a talent for inventive cruelty that rivalled Mother's, though as yet he lacked the strength to really hurt Iku physically. But recently, she had seen a new hunger in his eyes when he looked at her, and the casual blows had been joined by sly pinches and tweaks, hands that strayed to her nipples or her crotch.

He was not strong enough, not yet; but already she had begun to dread being alone with him. In a year or two…

At least that was one thing she did not have to fear from Mother. And at least she did not have a father.

"Well?" her mother demanded, cutting into her thoughts. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Iku dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mother," she said in a low voice.

"Sorry! Is that all? Yes, you're a sorry one, all right, you miserable creature. I'm sorry, too—sorry that I ever laid eyes on you."

Snake-quick, Mother's hand reached down and seized Iku by the chin, tilting the girl's face up with a brutal jerk. "When I think," she said softly, "of how I suffered for twenty-eight hours to bring you into the world…of all the endless attention I've lavished on you, ever since—and for what? Look at you!" Her voice began to rise. "I don't know why I bother. How could I ever have imagined that you'd amount to anything? Conceiving you was a mistake, and allowing you to be born was a bigger one. You've been nothing but a worthless nuisance since you first drew breath, and you'll be one until you die." She paused, as if waiting for something, then barked out, "_Well_?"

Iku shrank back with a moan. Fear and despair warred within her; the heartache threatened to drown her. Her eyes were filling with tears again. "I'm sorry," she repeated in a helpless whisper.

"'I'm sorry,'" Mother mimicked scornfully. "Is that all you know how to say? No, don't answer; I don't need to listen to your grovelling. You disgust me. Worthless you are and worthless you've been since the day you were born. But now I find that you're spreading your whining ways to bother other people too! Oh, yes, I know you've been slipping off these last few weeks; don't think I haven't noticed. But now this—weaselling your way into a slumber party last night! Faugh!" She spat. "Burdening others with your selfish demands—forcing that Claver girl to bring you home this morning—"

Releasing Iku's chin, she bent down to look the girl in the face. Her eyes seemed to bore into Iku's own: harsh, angry, pitiless. "Such an inflated opinion you have of yourself, Iku my girl. Do you actually imagine you're that important? Do you have the gall to believe you're worth her time? You pathetic fool. You're an imposition, that's all. You're _in the way_—and now you're forcing decent folk to go out of their way to cater to your selfish whims. How _dare_ you?"

She straightened up suddenly—and then stepped back and lashed out, striking Iku across the face with the full weight of her arm. Half-blinded by the blow, Iku was flung to the floor by the impact. Her shoulder landed in a sludge of mixed vomit and urine, and skidded. She came to a rest in an ungainly sprawl, lying on her back in the pool.

She sucked in a breath in a gasp of pain, and almost threw up again at the stench that filled her nose and her lungs. She could feel it, cold and thick and clammy, soaking into her hair. Her stomach roiled. Not daring to move, she lay there, naked and filthy, and waited.

Mother gazed down at her, eyes cold. "You've been a blight on enough lives, girl," she growled. "Heaven knows you've blighted mine and your brother's. To think your father left me over _you_! Left an innocent girl with a squalling, screaming burden, all alone. All the years I slaved over you, working myself to the bone without him, bringing you up, and look at you! I should have had you aborted the moment I knew you weren't his."

For a moment the loathing faded from her voice, and an almost wistful look crossed her face. "My precious Keisuke!" she said. "Him and his damned scruples. One wretched night at a party—what was that? But no, he walked out the day he found out the truth—months before his true son, my darling baby boy, was even born. As if some pathetic by-blow meant more than his wife and his true son!"

The wistful look was gone now, and the anger back in its place. Half-turning, she reached out and rpughly pulled Masahiko to her. He squirmed, then settled into her embrace and looked back at Iku with a smirk. His eyes never left her body; he licked his lips again.

"You think about that, girl," Mother went on in a rasp, one hand playing roughly through Masahiko's hair. "Think about how much harm you've done. Think about how much I sacrificed just for you to be born; how much your brother and I sacrifice every day to feed and clothe you. And this is the thanks we get? A dirty, good-for-nothing guttersnipe; a sneaky, underhanded girl who thinks nothing of dragging other innocents down with her. What do you think that Claver girl would say if she saw you now? Do you think she'd be happy to see her _friend_?"

Iku tried to stifle it, but failed. A single sob escaped. Her eyes burned, and she felt hot tears on her cheeks.

Mother snorted. "Yes, you think about that. Maybe a few more hours down here will help you think a little more clearly. Me, I don't want to have to look at you any more. The sight of you makes me sick."

She turned and strode back up the stairs, pulling Masahiko after her. At the top, she flicked off the light switch without looking back, and closed the door behind her. Silence fell in the cellar; thick, heavy silence, and the dark.

Iku lay on the cold, concrete floor, in a stinking pool of bodily waste, and clutched herself and cried. Every part of her hurt. She could hardly breathe for the foulness of the air, but she could not seem to move; her muscles did not want to respond. But worse than the pain or the smell was the desperate, overwhelming misery, the utter desolation that was her life.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," she gasped through her tears. "I'm sorry. I'll do better, I promise…please don't hate me—please…"

Silently, deep inside her, something added: _Dhiti-san, why?_

And last, so deep down that she was almost unaware of it, hardly even knew that she still remembered:

_Oh, Koinu-chan, I miss you so much…_

月

Above her, outside, two children crouched in the garden. Young boys, no more than eleven, they were positioned close by the house, out of sight to a casual glance from inside. Both of them looked scared.

They were hunkered down by the cellar window. It was closed, and they had not been able to hear much, but they had heard enough; and while the light had been on, they had seen enough. More than enough.

One boy gave a frightened, sick look to his companion and said in a low voice, "Let's go."

The other boy said, "I…didn't think it would be like this…"

"Come on. Let's go."

* * *

The commset let out a shrill buzz. There was no reaction, and it kept right on buzzing. At last, with a groan, Hiiro Yoichi sat up in bed and reached for the handset.

"Hiiro," he said in a voice still thick with sleep. "What is it?"

"Captain, it's me." Aoiro's voice. "Sorry to wake you, sir."

Hiiro sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes. "Get on with it, Aoiro." He glanced across at the clock. God, he'd had, what, two hours' sleep? Well, it was better than some nights.

"Can you please check your gun, sir?"

Hiiro paused. "What?"

"Just check it, sir. Please."

Hiiro took the handset away from his ear and stared at it for a second. Then, lifting it once more, he said, "All right. I hope you're going to let me in on the joke sooner or later."

He climbed out of bed and walked over to the stand where his heavy leather jacket hung, reaching in and pulling his pistol out of the built-in holster. To Aoiro he said, "Okay, what now? Is this the point where the dancing girls burst out? I have it and it looks—what the _hell_?"

He stared down at the gun he was holding. It was a Saurin Special, one of the finest handguns in the world: double-action, 10.6mm, utterly reliable. And it had very obviously been fired recently, and put away without being cleaned.

Funny how he no longer felt sleepy at all.

With steady hands, he checked the pistol over carefully, then unloaded it. The magazine held only three cartridges. But—He paused, and checked his jacket again. He found an empty clip.

Hiiro lifted the comm handset to his ear once more. "All right, Aoiro, you have my attention," he said. "How did you know? More importantly, _what_ do you know?"

"Your gun's been fired?"

"Obviously. Get on with it, Aoiro."

"Mine's the same. Captain, this isn't possible. I never fired a shot last night, and neither did you!"

"No." Hiiro tried to think. What had happened last night? They went to the Olympus, expecting to wait in hiding and arrest Pappadopoulos when she showed up. Instead they found a full-on confrontation in progress, between the Sailor Senshi and a bunch of giant crystal monstrosities. Hiiro made the decision to back away gracefully. He'd spent the rest of the night explaining himself to headquarters, but in the end Colonel Shiro endorsed his decision.

At no time had anybody fired a shot. They weren't suicidal. And yet, there was the evidence of his pistol.

"Have you spoken to the others?" he asked suddenly.

"No."

"Okay. Call Mitsukai. I'll speak to Kuroi. Then—if they're the same, we're going to have some work to do."

He hung up without waiting for a reply, and called Kuroi. Kuroi, as it turned out, had been about to call him.

月

The team met outside the Olympus building half an hour later. Masao came with them this time. Hiiro hesitated before calling him in, but eventually decided that it was worth a shot. The different viewpoint might be interesting, if nothing else.

Hiiro had one more piece of evidence, too. As he was dressing, he found a card wallet in his pocket. It held an ID for one Odaka Toichi, of the Technical Enforcement Network. Hiiro had never heard of the organisation, or of Odaka. But then, he had never seen the wallet before, either.

Up in Pappadopoulos' office, it only took a few minutes of searching before Kuroi found the first bullet hole. Not long after that, Masao found a chunk of broken crystal that actually held a spent bullet.

Hiiro examined both, and nodded slowly. "Anyone want to bet what the ballistics check will show?" he said, his voice light but his expression sour.

"They came from our guns," said Aoiro flatly.

"Yeah, that would be my guess." Hiiro rubbed his face wearily, and looked around the office. "God, what a mess. What the hell were those crystal things, anyway?" He shook his head, then went on. "Okay. So it looks like we were in a firefight last night—and that's not what we remember happening. I don't really want to consider what that might mean, but…"

"Our memories have been altered," said Kuroi. "Admit it, boss. Somebody's been fucking with our minds."

Hiiro looked at him for a long moment. At last, slowly, he nodded. "That's not certain yet, but…yeah. It looks that way. We'll go ahead and get that ballistics check run, I think; I want to be very, very certain about this. Goddammit!"

He glanced around once more, then began issuing orders. "Mitsukai, contact headquarters and get a forensics team out here. I want them to go over every inch of this place. If somebody's been messing with us, I want to know all about it. After that—" He pulled the card wallet out of his pocket and tossed it to Mitsukai. "See what you can dig up on this guy and his 'Technical Enforcement Network'. I don't think I like the sound of it. What's wrong with your wrist?"

"Uh—" Mitsukai, who had been rubbing one wrist gently, froze. "Nothing. I think. It's just sore this morning."

"Don't sleep on it, then. Right, what else? All of you, hand in your guns; the ballistics team will need them. Kuroi, that means all three guns, please, and don't make faces at me like that. Next—" Hiiro gestured toward the office doors. "Spread out. Check over the rest of the apartment, but keep it hands-off for now. Kitada, that means that you personally don't touch _anything_. You'd only mess it up for the forensics boys. Clear? Right, everyone, get going."

The team began to move. Mitsukai pulled out her commset and a portable computer; Aoiro disappeared through the hidden door into the fire room; and Kuroi headed into the rest of the apartment. Hiiro gave Masao a nod and they followed him.

Barely two minutes later, Kuroi let out a call from the kitchen, and Hiiro hurried to join him. "Smell the air," Kuroi said.

Hiiro sniffed. "Eggs," he said. "Somebody's been cooking."

"Yup. You think Pappadopoulos came back?"

"Who knows?" Hiiro made a face. "Hell, if our memories have been changed, she could have walked in right in front of us wearing a tutu, danced a rhumba, and then slept here all night, safe and snug in her own bed." He cursed. "Damn it, I hate this, Ryozo. To think that someone can just reach in and do things to your mind like that…"

A clatter of footsteps behind them announced Masao. "The shower's wet," he said excitedly. "And it's a warm day. It must have been used pretty recently."

Hiiro and Kuroi exchanged glances. "Check it for hair," said Kuroi.

They went into the bathroom and examined the shower carefully. Hiiro used a pair of tweezers and lifted a long, fine hair from the basin, laying it on a clean white handkerchief. The two of them examined it. "Too long, and it's not white," Hiiro said. "Not Pappa-san."

"The Hayashi girl?" suggested Kuroi.

"Um." Hiiro used a lens to look more closely. "Isn't she a lighter shade? This looks too dark to me."

Kuroi frowned. "Could be," he said. "Who else, though? You think one of the Senshi decided to take a shower to cool off after blasting a few monsters?"

"At this stage, nothing would surprise me. Let's get it tested, shall we?" Kuroi passed him a small plastic bag and Hiiro used his tweezers to slip the hair inside.

"Maybe Hayashi-san had someone around for a sleepover," said Masao. The other two looked at him, and he flushed. "Uh. Not last night, though. Right."

"At least you're thinking," said Kuroi sourly. Then he paused. "But dammit, that reminds me of something. It's right on the tip of my tongue…" He scratched his chin thoughtfully, and said, "There hasn't been anyone else here, has there? In the last few weeks?"

Hiiro shook his head. "Not since we've been watching. In fact, she hasn't even…" He trailed off. "Dammit, you're right. That does remind me of something. Now, what was it? I wonder if—"

He broke off at a sudden buzz from his commset. He snarled, then lifted it to his ear. "What is it?" he demanded. "I'm busy."

A voice at the other end cut him off. Hiiro listened for a minute, then hung up without a word. He looked around at Masao and Kuroi, hesitated for an instant, and then said, "Kitada—here. Take this." He tossed the plastic bag containing the hair to Masao, who caught it. "Take it to headquarters. Tell them I want an ID. Clear?"

Masao nodded, his eyes widening. Hiiro paid him no more attention; he turned to Kuroi and said, "Get Mitsukai and Aoiro. We've got business."

"Problem?" asked Kuroi.

"Yeah. Apparently the Senshi have murdered someone."

月

Masao watched the team rush out of the apartment, his mind boiling.

They didn't remember. Hiiro had said that he thought their minds had been tampered with, but Masao hadn't really believed it. Now, he had little choice. The truth had been right in front of Hiiro and Kuroi, and neither of them had been able to see it.

He held up the little plastic bag again, studying the hair inside. It wasn't the Hayashi girl's colour—but it was Ochiyo's. And the two men had forgotten all about her. Masao had watched them, seen them struggle to remember…and fail. She might as well have been erased from their minds.

But Masao hadn't been at the Olympus last night. He remembered her just fine. He even remembered that sometimes, she stayed the night in Pappadopoulos' apartment.

He looked at the hair in the plastic bag again. Who had altered the others' memories, and how? Most importantly, why? Why would someone want 'S' Division to forget a teenage girl?

He could only think of one reason.

And again, in his mind's eye, he saw a white cat in a metal cage, and heard the cat's words: _Being true to their hearts…that's the long and the short of it. That's what makes a real hero: someone who stands true. No matter what._

"You never mentioned having to betray the people who trust you," he whispered to the phantom. "How true is that?"

_We all make our choices, don't we?_ commented Artemis. _And stand by them._

Masao went into the guest bedroom, and spent a little time searching the floor. Before long, he found what he was looking for and held it up to the light to check. A long, wavy hair, of an unmistakable chestnut colour. He nodded, and took a deep breath. Then he pulled the dark hair out of the plastic bag—using his own pair of tweezers—and substituted the lighter-coloured one he had just found. He re-sealed the plastic bag and put it in his pocket.

"And stand by them," he murmured.

He left the apartment and headed downstairs, to take the hair in to headquarters for identification. Rather to his surprise, he found himself whistling cheerfully as he left the building. He had a feeling that it was going to be a good day.

The whistling cut off sharply as a middle-aged man with short, greying hair came up to him out of nowhere and stuck a gun in his ribs with a broad smile. "Kitada Masao?" he said. "My name is Okuda Jiro. I think we should talk."

月

Hiiro and his team met Lieutenant Kogecha outside the 'M' Division building. Kogecha, a stocky woman with greying hair and a broad, no-nonsense face, briefed them as they went inside, waving their IDs at the security guards.

"Egami Shosuke was found dead in his home, about an hour ago. I understand there were some…oddities about the situation. He was one of 'M' Division's—"

"I know who he was," said Hiiro sourly.

Kogecha gave him a quizzical look. "You were acquaintances?"

"A little more than that." Hiiro snorted. "Go on."

"Well. The real problem came when we got a report of _this_." They reached an open door with two more security guards standing outside. "Egami's office. Take a look, Captain."

Hiiro looked through the door, and raised his eyebrows. "Quite a mess," he said. The office had been comprehensively trashed. At first glance, nothing larger than a paperback book had been left intact. He had never seen a computer in quite so many pieces before.

"Okay, so you have a security problem," he went on. "But I'm not seeing a Senshi connection yet."

"That comes next," said Kogecha. "Through here."

She led him to the next door down. Hiiro stepped through—and stopped short with a startled oath. Kuroi, following close behind him, peered over his shoulder and started to laugh.

The new room was a sizeable workshop-cum-laboratory, and it was as chaotic a ruin as the first; but if the vandals in the office had been thorough, here they had been inventive. The centre of the room was dominated by a pile of electronic equipment that seemed to have been welded together into an unsteady tower. Other equipment had been linked together in unlikely ways and allowed to tear each other to pieces, or simply to short each other out. Some unnameable machine lying on its side was leaking a thick, sticky liquid. Still further paraphernalia had simply been smashed, but the wreckage had been carefully arranged in what was almost a decorative effect.

On the wall, in metre-high characters that had somehow been burned into the wood, were the words: "SAILOR SENSHI".

Hiiro found his voice at last. "I, ah, see what you mean," he said weakly.

Kuroi laughed again. Aoiro and Mitsukai crowded into the room to look, and Aoiro let out a short bark of laughter as well. Hiiro sighed and exchanged a look with Kogecha. Thankfully, she didn't seem to think it was funny. Or maybe she'd gotten it out of her system earlier.

"I assume our people have been through here already?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oudo's team left just before you got here. There was a 'P' Division group as well."

Hiiro let his expression tell her what he thought of 'P' Division. "All right. How did they get in? And is there anything else, or is it just these two rooms?"

"Uh. They came in through the window in the director's office. That's been roughed up, too, but nowhere near as thoroughly as these. Looks like fire damage, or maybe—" she shifted uncomfortably "—lightning." Hastily, she went on, "They did something to the building network; took out the security systems and everything else as well. The techs still haven't got it back up. Even the power was out, for a while."

"Pretty good, for a bunch of teenage girls," observed Hiiro blandly.

"Well…" The lieutenant looked even more uncomfortable. "Supposedly, I mean, the legends say Sailor Mercury was good with computers."

"I'll keep that in mind." Kogecha had some kind of phobia about Senshi, Hiiro guessed, or perhaps just with the idea of super-powered girls in general. He couldn't blame her. But he'd worked with her before; she wouldn't let it get in her way. "I'll take a look at that office as well, but I expect—wait a minute. Did you say the _director's_ office? As in, Director Fukuda?"

She nodded.

"Oh, crap. Has he been informed?"

Another nod—and a sympathetic look.

"Double crap." Hiiro screwed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Any more good news? Or is that it?" She made a negatory gesture, and he grimaced. "Hooray. All right, listen up, everyone—" He raised his voice to address the others as well. "Oudo's forensics team have been through the place, but we're going to do it all over again, because we know a few things they didn't. Kuroi, Mitsukai, go through this workshop. Aoiro, the office. I'm going to call in to Colonel Shiro, then take a look at the director's office with Kogecha. Report back in an hour, and then we're going back to the Olympus to do _it_ all over again, too. Clear? Now, move!"

月

Ninety minutes later they were on their way back to the Olympus. Aoiro drove; in the shotgun seat, Hiiro was busy going through a folder. The official report on Egami's death, delivered just a few minutes before.

"Anything interesting?" asked Kuroi over his shoulder.

Hiiro passed it to him. "Take a look," he said sourly.

Kuroi flipped through it. "Died of heart failure…no apparent cause. In good health…blah blah blah. Traces of—what the hell!"

"Ah," Hiiro said. "You got to the good bit."

"'Thin clear liquid running from both ears…analysis shows traces of _brain_ tissue'? Holy crap, what happened to him? Something melt his frontal lobes?"

Hiiro did not answer, and after a second Kuroi added in a quieter tone, "Shit. Sorry, boss. I forgot he was your friend."

"Matter of fact, he was the one who lent me the Interdiction Controller," Hiiro said, his voice tightly controlled. "Another interesting link, wouldn't you say?"

"You said it got smashed at the Olympus last night…" Kuroi scratched his jaw. "Come on, 'Ichi, you're not trying to say—"

"No, although it's probably what we're supposed to think," Hiiro interrupted. "But do I believe that the Senshi killed him? Don't be ridiculous. That business with writing their name on the wall—that's the work of a bunch of teenage girls, sure. But killing a man by poaching his brains? I don't think so."

"So we've got another party at work."

"Yeah. But that's not what's bothering me." Hiiro paused, suddenly reluctant to utter his thoughts aloud; but then he said, "Draw a line—call it a _moral_ line—between carving your name in the wall, and boiling a brain. Okay?" Kuroi clearly had no idea what he was talking about, but he nodded. "Right. So, tell me: whereabouts on that line do you put…tampering with someone's mind? Is it relatively innocuous, or is it a kind of rape? Or where, exactly, in between?"

Kuroi did not answer for a long time. At last he said, "I'm not sure I can answer that."

"Me neither. One thing I can say for sure, though. There'll be nothing public about it yet, but within the security forces…the Sailor Senshi have just jumped to the top of everyone's wanted list."

* * *

Masao looked up quickly as the door opened. He had lost track of how long he had been a prisoner so far, but he thought it had not been more than an hour or two. They were keeping him reasonably comfortable; the little room he sat in might have been an ordinary, two-star hotel room, except that there were no windows…and the door was kept locked.

His captor nodded to him, closed the door behind him, and sat down in the room's single other chair. "Kitada-san," he said cheerfully. "My name is—"

"Okuda Jiro," said Masao. He had had plenty of time, at least, to calm down—and to start thinking. "I remember. You work for the Hoseki Property Group…but you're really a member of the Sankaku clans."

Jiro was absolutely still for several seconds. Then he relaxed, though some of the affable friendliness in his voice was gone. "Ver' good," he said. "That captain of yours, I bet. He's a smart one. When'd he mark me?"

"Never mind that," said Masao, annoyed. "Why've you brought me here? What do you want with me? I don't know any big 'S' Division secrets."

"You know one big secret," said Jiro softly. "You know Pappadopoulos Itsuko's real name."

Masao froze. He felt the little confidence he had managed to muster trickle away. "I—I don't know wh—" he stammered.

"Please," Jiro said. "Don' try. I been watching the Olympus ver' close, for weeks now. Microphones…cameras, too. Seen all kinds of interestin' things." He paused, letting that sink in, before he went on. "Di'n' see anythin' last night, no—some kind o' static. But this morning, well now. A certain Kitada-san, an' a certain plastic bag…do I need to go on?"

"No." Unconsciously, Masao bit his lip. "What do you want with me?" he repeated.

"Been doin' a little checking on you, Kitada-san." Jiro nodded twice. "A little research, seein' how you look. An' you know how you look to me, Kitada-san?"

"How?"

Jiro gave him a little smile that was curiously sympathetic. "You look like a man…who's startin' to think that maybe he's playin' for the wrong team. That soun' like a possibility to you, Kitada-san?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Masao. Even to his own ears it sounded weak.

"Yeah? We got one team who wants to arrest Itsuko-chan…an' one team who knows all about her, an' keeps his mouth shut. One team wants to arrest the Sailor Senshi…an' one team wishes 'em luck. So which team you wan' ta be on—really?"

Masao licked his lips. "And why should I believe a bunch of terrorists?"

"Terrorists, hey? That what they really say about us?"

That gave Masao pause. He remembered, distantly, a meeting at 'S' Division headquarters, when Colonel Shiro had suggested that, while the Sankaku supported themselves by crime, in fact they were working toward some other goal.

But what goal? Nobody knew.

"No," he admitted grudgingly.

"No," repeated Jiro. "So I tell you what, Kitada-san. I'm gonna take a risk here. I'll tell you exactly who the Sankaku are—not the story we tell the raw recruits; the real deal. An' then we'll see what's what, hey? 'Cause I been watching you for a while now…an' I got a feeling." He looked Masao in the eye, and said, "A feelin' that you know who to stand by."

He paused expectantly, but Masao did not reply. Jiro nodded, as if satisfied—and then he told Masao the real story of the Sankaku.

And Masao, who as a student had once gotten a good grade in history, thought about it…and then told him "All right," and changed his allegiance for the last time.

月

Later, as Jiro opened the door to let him out, Masao asked, "What should I do now?"

Jiro chuckled, and said, "Why, you take that hair down to 'S' Division so they can analyse it. After all, don' they need all the help they can get?"

* * *

In the middle of the afternoon, Makoto caught a bus over to her old neighbourhood. She hadn't been gone all that long, really—not even three weeks—but it was surprising how unfamiliar the place seemed. She knew it all like the back of her hand, but it no longer felt like home. Morbidly, she wondered if it would have felt the same way if her name had still been Miyo.

She lingered in a little coffee shop until her watch told her it was nearly time, and then stepped outside to wait, standing in the mouth of a narrow alley between buildings. A few minutes later, a little way down the road, a bus drew up and her sister stepped out.

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief. Miliko would be on her way home from a netball match; she almost always caught this bus, but Makoto hadn't been sure. She wondered if her sister's team had won. Three weeks ago, before she had been disowned, she wouldn't have cared; but now it seemed like the most important thing in the world. Miliko certainly looked cheerful enough, so maybe they had.

In fact, she looked almost too cheerful, and suddenly Makoto's resolve failed her. Maybe Miliko didn't care; maybe she'd already forgotten about her big sister; maybe she'd shout insults—

No. No doubts. Miliko was approaching. As the twelve-year-old drew level with the alley, Makoto reached out and pulled her in.

Miliko gasped, and drew in her breath to cry out. Before she could make a sound, Makoto held up a finger to her lips and said, "Shh. It's me."

Her sister froze, staring up at her. There was no recognition in her eyes, and after a second Makoto suddenly remembered how different she looked now: her skin colour changed, her figure camouflaged, but most significantly her hair cut short and dyed black. But then Miliko blinked and said, hesitantly, "O-oneesan?"

Makoto released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, and said, "Yeah, Miliko. It's me."

She was hardly prepared for the impact of a small form, the weight, and the crushing full-body hug. She staggered back against the wall of the alley, hitting her shoulder painfully and toppling to the ground, and only gradually became aware that Miliko, her head buried in Makoto's chest, was saying, over and over again, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorryimsorryimsorry…"

"Hey." She reached down and lifted Miliko's head. "Get off, Brat," she said, her voice a little rough. "You're heavy."

Miliko sniffed. "I am not." But she slid off, and the two of them got to their feet once more.

And then they stared at one another, and suddenly Makoto could think of nothing to say. "Uh—" she began, and faltered to a halt.

Miliko solved her problem for her. "You look so different!" she said. "Why? Is it because you're a Senshi now?"

"Uh," Makoto said again. She glanced down at herself. "No. I'm kind of in disguise. And, uh, look, don't talk about the S-word stuff, okay? It could get me into trouble."

She was thinking of eavesdroppers, and word getting back to the enemy; she had not even considered how else that could be taken, until she saw the shock and guilt in Miliko's face. Because, of course, it had been Miliko talking about her being Sailor Jupiter that had gotten her disowned in the first place.

"I'm sorry!" blurted out Miliko. "I know it's all my fault. I didn't mean to, I promise! I never—"

"Hey," Makoto said. "I know. I'm sorry. That…came out wrong." She reached down and brushed moisture from her sister's cheek. "Listen, Brat, I saw Fujimaro last week. I gave him my comm number and we were going to set up a time to meet, him and me and you—"

"I know. He told me. But then, when he called, he got some kind of wrong number, and he told me you were just playing jokes. He was really mad. He said you—"

"It wasn't a joke, okay? Tell him I'm sorry. But things have…kind of gotten complicated. There are some people looking for—" She broke off, shaking her head. "No, never mind that now. Look, here. I had to move again, but this is my comm number now." She handed Miliko a slip of paper. "And my address. Give them to Fuji, okay?"

Miliko took the paper, glancing down at it and then up at Makoto once more. "Can we come see you?"

"Sure." Makoto had not actually cleared this with Seki, but abruptly she decided, the hell with it. Family was important, and if Seki didn't understand that, it was high time someone told her. "Just…be careful, okay? And call first. There really are some people looking for—well, not for me, I suppose, but the person I'm staying with."

"Why? Is it another Sen—" Miliko broke off, looking guilty all over again. "Another one of you?" she finished in a stage whisper.

Makoto tried not to wince. "Not exactly," she said. "It's complicated. I'll tell you if you come over…maybe. Look, Brat, you may know about _me_, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tell you about all the others, you know?"

"Okay." Her sister nodded meekly, though Makoto was fairly sure that the meekness wouldn't last more than a moment after she left. Then, in a sudden rush, Miliko said, "Oneesan, can I—can I tell the others, too? Ichiyo-niisan, and Mommy, and Daddy?"

Makoto's heart sank. "Brat—"

"I know," her little sister went on, still almost stumbling over her words in her hurry to get them out, "I know that Daddy made you go away, but—but Oneechan, he wants you back really, I know he does! He never talks any more, and he always looks sad, and so does Mommy, and…and…and even if Ichiyo-niisan does get mad when anyone says your name, I know he wants us all to be together again too—"

Makoto laid a finger over the girl's lips to hush her. "Miliko, I'm sorry," she said gently. "I don't think that's going to work. And I think you know it too, really, don't you?"

Miliko looked as if she were about to cry again. "But I want you to come home," she said sulkily.

"We don't always get what we want, though. Sometimes bad things happen, and…and there just isn't anything you can do about it. And it's pretty good where I am now, Brat. You'll like it when you see it."

The girl looked up at her mutinously—and then her expression changed, summer-quick. "Can I come now?" she begged.

"Um." Makoto thought about Seki's likely reaction, and chickened out. "Better not," she said. "Maybe sometime during the week, after school? Anyway, you still have to tell Fuji. He'd be pretty mad if you came without him."

"Well, why not just tell him now, then!"

"Because he won't be home. He's always out Sunday afternoons. Duh!" She rapped Miliko on the head and grinned at her. "Look, Brat, I can't stay. It wouldn't be a good idea if anyone recognised me here. But come see me, okay? Or give me a call sometimes. I don't want to give you guys up."

Miliko gave her that mutinous look again. "Stay! Please? Don't go, not yet. We could—we could—"

Makoto reached out to rap her again, and then changed her mind and gave her a quick hug instead. "I have to go. But I'll see you again, I promise. Good-bye, little sister…"

Then she released her and stepped out of the alley, hurrying down the street. A bus was just pulling up to the stop; she had seen it approaching from within the alley. She waved a hand to signal the driver, and ran to catch it.

She felt eyes boring into her back all the way, but she did not look around until she was safely on board the bus.

月

Miliko trudged home and went inside. She left her soiled netball gear in the laundry and headed for her room to drop off the rest. Just a few weeks ago, she had shared the room with Miyo, but now it was all hers. A lot of the shelf space was still filled with plants, and she loyally watered them every day. Some of them, waterlogged, were beginning to droop.

As she passed through the living room, her eldest brother raised his head. "Oi, Miliko," he said. "Saw you talking to that tall girl on the street, as I went past. She a coach, or something?"

"No," said Miliko without thinking. Then she could have bitten her tongue.

Ichiyo did not appear to notice. "Oh. What'd she want?" he asked idly, not sounding particularly interested.

"Um…" Her mind was blank. Miliko scrambled to think of something—anything. "She was asking about the game today," she answered at last, in a bright, false voice.

Still Ichiyo was not really paying attention. "A senior asking about a middle school game? She must be keen." He did not really care, Miliko suddenly understood. He just wanted to be talking—about anything. To break the silence.

Then, to her dismay, he said, "Didn't really notice, but I think I've seen her before, somewhere. Funny…"

"I—I have to go," said Miliko, and fled into the kitchen.

Behind her, startled, Ichiyo turned his head to watch her go. "What's eating _her_?" he muttered to himself, a little irritated.

She had gotten all bothered when he mentioned the girl in the street. Now, why was that? Ichiyo thought about it, and suddenly his expression changed.

* * *

On Monday morning, Beth said good-bye to her parents and—privately—to her cat, and headed for school.

As she left, she saw more chalk marks on the pavement outside her gate. Kids playing again! She gave an exasperated sigh. It had been _her_ who'd had to clean the mess up yesterday. At least this lot wasn't so garish: a little circle, and the English letters "SW". She wondered what it was supposed to mean—south-west?—but then forgot about it.

Still, maybe that was what started it, getting her thinking about kids. There were plenty of them around, of course; Kawasemi School combined middle and high schools, so there were students from eleven or twelve and up, all heading the same direction. And yet, the entire way to school, a fifteen-minute walk, she kept on getting the odd feeling that one or two of them were watching her. There was nothing overt about it; only, now and then, she would turn her head and imagine that she saw a face looking quickly away.

She was just oversensitive this morning, she told herself grumpily. Better to think about something more cheerful. Meeting Mark, for example. The run yesterday morning had been quite pleasant, and if he hadn't exactly asked her out, still she had at least managed to get his comm number. Life was looking up.

Also, this was the last week before the summer holidays began. That was a definite plus.

She had plenty of plans for the holidays. The Hiking Club's trip to the Minami-Boso reserve was due in a couple of weeks: three days of tramping through hills covered with heavy forest. Then there were films to see, places to go, things to see, and books to read—real books, not the textbooks she'd been studying in her spare time. Maybe she'd go back to her poetry; it had been a while since she'd written anything new.

And, when she got the chance, there was always hanging out with Bendis and doing more Senshi training. It should be different, now that she knew who she truly was. She was sure of that.

This chain of thought kept her agreeably distracted until she reached school. There, she hunted around until she found Nanako and Eitoku, and chatted with them for a while. The strain from a week ago was gone, mostly, and they were back to the way they had been before.

Mostly. Now that she knew to look, she could see that Nanako and Eitoku were together. Now that her eyes had been opened.

The bell sounded and they went in. Everything was normal; it was a perfectly regular school day. Only halfway through the morning, when their teacher remarked on it, did Beth notice that Iku was not there.

She mentioned it to Nanako at lunchtime. Nanako simply shrugged and said, "Everyone's away sick sometimes, you know."

"Yeah, but Iku-san's away more than most," remarked Eitoku. Then he turned his attention back to his lunch: some kind of fish salad that Beth thought smelled horrid.

"But—" she began, and then stopped when she realised that she had no idea what she had been about to say. Something about not feeling right that she hadn't even _noticed_. After all, Iku was supposed to be her friend, right? They were fellow Senshi—though of course she couldn't say that to Nanako and Eitoku.

"I suppose so," she finished lamely.

Nanako chuckled and said, "She probably just partied too hard all weekend." Her voice was light, her smile cheerful…but suddenly she looked, well, tense, and her eyes would not seem to meet Beth's.

Eitoku noticed it too. "What's wrong, Nana-chan?" he asked.

"Nothing. Don't be silly." Nanako paused for an instant, then said, "I was just thinking about…parties…at Iku-chan's house."

Eitoku snorted. "Hard to imagine. I don't think I've even seen her smile more than half a dozen times." He grinned. "They're probably all like that at her place. Quiet and dull. Hey, maybe they're secretly Loonies!"

"Idiot." She swatted him, scowling. "No, I've been there once—a while ago, now. It seemed…nice enough. Pleasant. Her mother was friendly. You'd probably like her, Beth-chan."

"Um, okay." Beth was not sure where this was going. "So what's the matter, then?"

"Nothing's the matter," Nanako snapped. "Everything's fine, Beth-chan, everything's just perfect."

Then she looked up at Beth, meeting her eyes at last, and gave her a peculiar smile. "Why, Iku-chan even had a pet once. A puppy. She actually even named it 'puppy'—'Koinu-chan.' Isn't that cute? You should ask her about it sometime, Beth-chan."

She stood up suddenly. Her fists were clenched. She said, to nobody in particular, "I need a drink of water." Then she turned and walked away.

Eitoku watched her go, his mouth open. He glanced over at Beth and said, "Excuse me," then got up and ran after her.

Beth was left alone, watching the two of them. She saw Nanako pause, some distance off, as Eitoku caught up with her. The two of them started talking, and went on together. Neither of them went anywhere near a drinking fountain.

After a little, Beth said, "Huh?"

月

"So what was _that_ all about?" demanded Eitoku.

"Nothing," said Nanako sharply. "I just couldn't stand—" She broke off, looking away from him. At last she said, in an almost wistful voice, "Do you ever feel guilty, 'Toku-chan?"

"Guilty?" Eitoku shook his head, uncomprehending. There were times—quite a lot of times, to be honest—when he simply could not fathom Nanako. Her mind worked around sharp, twisty little corners, and usually she seemed to be several turns ahead of him. "About what?"

Again she did not answer at once. Then, very quietly, she said, "I'm not sure. I'm…just afraid. I'm afraid I might be right."

"Nana-chan, I don't understand a single thing you're saying." He pushed his glasses up his nose, and in that moment it came to him. "This _is_ something about Iku-san, isn't it? What is it? What do you feel guilty about? This isn't like you—"

"She told me about her puppy once, you see." Nanako's eyes were still far-off. There was a slight catch in her voice as she said, "And I've been running away from it ever since. I suspected, but I…I was afraid. I didn't want to—to look behind the curtain."

Abruptly she whirled and gripped him by the forearm. "But it doesn't matter now. I've given Beth-chan the hint, and now she'll look and find out what they're hiding, and then it'll be all right. She'll do it, 'Toku-chan. You may not think so, but Beth-chan is strong. Stronger than me."

Bitterly, she added, "I'm no hero."

* * *

Suzue went to school looking forward to an interesting day. She would be gaining a new schoolmate, for one thing.

It had been a shock when Hayashi Miyo had become Hiyama Makoto, but a pleasant surprise when she'd announced that she would be transferring to Suzue's school. Suzue was sorry that the girl's life was being turned upside-down yet again, of course; but all the same, the rather daunting religious issues notwithstanding, she had come to like and respect Makoto, and looked forward to helping her settle in.

It was a peculiar time to start a new school, just a week before they broke for the holidays; but Makoto had been adamant. "Get it over with," she had said. "Plus, this way I get to meet everyone without having to worry too much about schoolwork for a while."

Suzue made sure that she arrived in plenty of time. When she got there, she saw Keiko and paused inside the gates for a while, chatting idly. They discussed their respective weekends, though of course Suzue left certain details out of her own account. As she spoke, she kept an eye on the school gates.

Five minutes later she saw Makoto walk through the gates, wearing a brand-new Hibari school uniform: dull olive jacket and trousers with copper piping on the sleeves, and a lighter blouse underneath the jacket.

"Excuse me," she said to Keiko. "That's the girl I told you about the other day. I should say hello."

"Oh, the new one?" replied Keiko, interested; but Suzue was already heading away.

Makoto had stopped just inside the gate and was looking around, visibly uncomfortable. When she saw Suzue coming she relaxed, smiling. Suzue smiled back and said, "Good morning."

"Hi." Makoto glanced around again, craning her neck up at the main building. "Looks a nice enough place…I guess." Her mouth twisted in a wry grimace, and Suzue gave her a curious look. Makoto said, "Sorry. Bad memories. In my—" She dropped her voice. "In my last life, when I was a teenager…I changed schools a lot. This brings it back, a little."

"I'm sorry—" began Suzue, but Makoto waved her quiet.

"Not your fault. Hey, don't worry; I'll be fine." For a moment, her face hardened into something tough and cynical: the look of a girl who'd seen it all and wasn't going to let it beat her. Seeing it, Suzue wondered if she were glimpsing the past: Kino Makoto as she had been before she met the Blessed Lady. But then Makoto's face softened once more. She let out a breath, glanced at Suzue, and winked.

"So," she said, "brief me. What do I need to know here? Who are the teachers to avoid? And—" Again, she grinned. "When do I finally meet this boyfriend of yours?"

Suzue felt herself blush. "Minoru-kun is—" She caught herself. "Um, maybe later? And the teachers—"

"Joking, Suzue-chan!" Makoto laughed out loud. "Well—mostly joking. Anyway, I don't really have time for anything right now. I need to go to the school office and do all their paperwork, I guess."

"All right. The offices are this way—" They started toward the main building, but a few seconds later the final bell went, and Suzue sighed. "I have to get to class. Look, the offices are inside the main door, on the left. There's a sign that says 'Secretary'; you can't miss it." Makoto nodded. "I'll see you at lunchtime, all right? Good luck!"

"See you, Suzue-chan."

They parted, and Suzue turned toward one of the side entrances, closer to her classroom. Still smiling, she was nearly at the door when she felt someone grab her roughly by the arm.

"Suzue-chan," said her assailant, "you've been a bad girl."

She turned, bewildered, to see Kubota Rinako standing there—and her heart sank. Rinako had been one of Suzue's particular tormentors at school for years now, ever since the day when a very young and naïve Suzue had stood up in class, introduced herself, and told them all what she believed. Things had been pretty bad for a while back then. It had tapered off eventually, and nowadays the physical bullying was a thing of the past; but while it had lasted, there had been times when it had been savage.

"Kubota-san?" she said, still confused. "What—?"

Rinako pushed her back against the wall, hard, cutting her off. "Saw you talking to the new girl, Suzue-chan. Spreading the Loonie word again." She shook her head. "Too bad; thought you'd wised up. Guess I was wrong."

Suzue froze. A yawning chasm opened up in the pit of her stomach. This couldn't be happening, not now! But the grip on her arm, tight enough to hurt, was far too real, and with a shock she realised that she had been too hasty in thinking it was all over.

"But—no, you've got it wrong, Kubota-san," she said desperately. "I wasn't talking to her about that, honestly! I was just saying hello to her, and—"

"I'll bet." Rinako smiled lazily. She was a big girl, solidly built and strong, with short, mannish hair. She looked stupid but she was wasn't, not quite. Suzue knew that she had no chance of breaking free.

"Maybe that's even true," Rinako said, shaking her head. "Saying hello. Softening her up before you try to pull her in. Is that what the other Loonies teach you to do? Well, it doesn't matter now. The others will make sure New Girl knows what's what."

Suzue stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then she realised, and looked around over her shoulder. Some distance away, near the main doors, another girl—one Suzue knew all too well—had stopped Makoto and was talking to her.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

She felt a cold chill as she realised what was about to happen, and far too late, the words came back to her: _My advice would be to tell them soon. The longer you leave it, the worse it will be._

Now it was too late indeed. And as she thought it, as the realisation sank in, she saw Makoto turn her head, look straight into her eyes…and even from this distance, she could see the shock and betrayal on the girl's face.

Then Makoto looked away, and marched into the school building. She was moving fast, her body stiff. Suzue made a frantic effort to break free, to run after her, to try to explain—but it was no use. The hand on her arm did not budge.

"Now, now," said Rinako. "You can't leave just yet. We haven't finished our chat."

With her free hand, she made a gesture, and three more students stepped into view: two boys and a girl. Suzue knew them all, sometimes from her nightmares. She looked around…but there was nobody in sight. Everyone else had gone in to class.

"I think," said Rinako, "that it's time for a little reminder."

She raised her hand, the fist clenched…and the other three moved in to help, and then the talking stopped, and the reminding began.

* * *

"So," said Kin, "what's the big news?"

"Well, now." Dhiti studied her fingernails. "Where do I start?"

The two of them were sitting outside, underneath a broad, shady tree. It was lunchtime and the grounds were full of students, but they had the immediate area to themselves for now. A group of boys were playing with a basketball not far away; Mark and Liam were among them. To Dhiti's private delight, Liam kept throwing surreptitious glances in Kin's direction. Even better, now and then she caught Kin looking back.

"I dunno," said Kin dryly, "but I'm sure you'll think of something." She glanced around and added in a lower voice, "Is it something to do with the Senshi?"

"Of course." Dhiti fixed her with an unblinking stare, dropped her voice to match Kin's, and said, "Something happened to Hayashi on Saturday night. She was suddenly kidnapped by aliens from the planet Zelta and carried away to become their queen—ow. You didn't have to hit that hard, Kin-chan."

"Idiot. Just tell me, okay? Is Miyo-chan all right?"

"Um. She's fine, actually. She got into a bit of trouble, but we took care of it." Dhiti rubbed her arm, and gave Kin a reproachful look. "You could just call her yourself, you know. You've got her number."

"I know. It just…feels weird. Having to call her a different name, and everything."

"Try having to _see_ her like that."

"Yeah, yeah. So what," Kin repeated, "is the big news?"

"Ah." Dhiti studied her briefly, and then looked up into the branches of the tree, as if seeking for inspiration. "Actually, I'm not quite sure how to put this. It's, er, about your boyfriend." She gestured out toward Liam.

"He is _not_ my boyfriend!" Kin said automatically. Then she paused, and blinked at Dhiti. "Uh…news about him? What news?"

"See, it turns out that…that is, we kind of think that…well, he might be, er, Tuxedo Kamen reborn. You've been dating Queen Serenity's husband, Kin-chan. Try not to let it go to your head."

月

"They're talking about you," said Mark in English.

"And why should I care?" replied Liam sullenly, in the same language.

"Oh, no reason. 'Cause, you know, it definitely doesn't mean she's still interested in you or anything." Mark gave him a pained look. "Bonehead."

"Yeah, well, that's probably what they're talking about, then: what a bonehead I am." Liam caught the ball, did a fast sidestep, and took a long shot at the basket. It missed hopelessly. "You too, probably," he added.

Mark sighed. "Look, just talk to her."

"Oh, that's fine advice, coming from you! And how would you be coming along, talking to Miyo Hayashi, then?"

"Dammit—" Mark ignored the basketball that shot past his head, missing him by a hair. "That's not the same thing, and you know it. If I could _find_ Miyo—"

"And if Kin would talk to _me_," Liam said with a wintry smile. "She's mad crazy, man. She tells me I ought to go join the Loonies, and then she walks away and she won't talk to me since. What am I supposed to do about that?"

"You could join the Loonies?" Mark suggested. A moment later, his grin faded. "But she's still watching you, Li. She still watches."

"Maybe I should try a dashing secret identity," said Liam, his voice and eyes distant. "With a top hat and cane. Sweep her off her feet, and then—" He paused, and suddenly blinked. "What am I _talking_ about?"

Mark studied him carefully. "I have no clue. Let me know if you find out, huh?"

"God damn. Crazy dreams, and now this! I need a break. Thank God there's only a week to go." Liam rubbed his eyes and stood for a moment. When he spoke again, it was in Japanese once more. "You know, Dhiti-san probably knows where Miyo-san is."

"Sure. Maybe I should try following her after school, huh?" Mark grinned. "In my top hat and cane."

"Oh, get stuffed."

"There, you see? You're feeling better already. Look out behind you, by the way."

In one smooth motion, Liam whirled and caught the basketball that was about to hit his face, then jumped up and took a ridiculously long shot from midair. The ball hovered on the lip of the hoop for an endless moment, then went in.

"I suppose so," he said.

月

"Not funny, Dhiti-chan," said Kin.

"No," said Dhiti. "But this one's true. Sorry."

"But—but—" Kin looked over to where Liam and Mark were arguing, while their basketball game flowed on around them. "But he _can't_ be!" she protested. "He's—" She broke off, then said, more quietly, "Oh, damn, he is, isn't he? He looks just like King Endymion—"

"—Except for the hair," Dhiti finished for her.

"—Except that he's a Claver," Kin finished at the same moment.

They glanced at each other. "Uh…the hair," Kin said. "Right." But then her eyes returned to Liam. "He can't be," she repeated, shaking her head in denial. "King Endymion can't be reborn as a Claver!"

Dhiti glanced down at one dark-skinned hand. "Something wrong with Clavers?" she inquired casually.

"Well, _duh_. Everyone knows you guys are out to conquer the world and make the rest of us your adoring slaves."

"Oh. That…was supposed to be a secret, actually."

"As if! You just wish—" Again, Kin broke off, her eyes straying back to the young man in the playing field. "Oh, God. He—are you _sure_, Dhiti-chan? Really sure?"

"Sure? No." Dhiti shrugged. "But we were about to get our asses kicked on Saturday night, Kin-chan, until Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen showed up and bailed us out. And Tuxedo Kamen had a strong Eirish accent. So what am I supposed to think?"

Kin looked at her with haunted eyes and drew a slow, ragged breath. "God. It explains everything, doesn't it?" She paused, then went on, "That night…when we broke up. We were out on a date, and we were just sitting in the park, and he had his arms around me and everything was going just fine—" She flicked her eyes over to Liam once more, then looked down. She was actually wringing her hands now. "And then suddenly, out of the blue, he started whispering in my ear that…that I ought to grow my hair long again and do it up in…in o-odango…"

Dhiti stared at her for one incredulous moment. Then she started to laugh.

"Damn you, Dhiti-chan, it is _not funny_!"

"Yes…yes, it is, Kin-chan…" Dhiti tried to stifle her mirth, but without much success. "Yes, it is. Oh—oh—oh, my." She wiped her eyes. "Really? He said that?"

"Yeah," said Kin, her lips tight. "It wasn't the first time, either. So I got mad, and told him he ought to go join the Loonies, and he—Dhiti-chan, he looked so confused. Looking back at it now, I don't think he even realised what he'd said."

Dhiti thought about it, finally sober once more. "That might fit. Hayashi said something about him probably not knowing who he was."

"Great. Just great." Kin leaned back against the tree, silent for a few seconds. "So, I've been dating King Endymion…the husband of Queen Serenity…and I can personally attest that he's a great kisser. This is wrong on just _so_ many counts, Dhiti-chan." She shook her head glumly. "What am I going to do?"

Slowly, Dhiti started to smile. "I may have an idea."

* * *

Between classes, as they passed in the corridor, Ochiyo saw that Suzue was sporting a new brand-new black eye and a startling collection of fresh bruises. She nodded thoughtfully to herself. This wasn't the first time, though it was the first in quite a while. The work of Kubota and her crowd, probably. She wondered what had set them off.

She and Suzue exchanged glances, and Ochiyo raised her eyebrows and started to speak; but Suzue shook her head quickly and moved on.

Ochiyo continued to ponder the matter for the rest of the morning, in odd moments when she could ignore the droning of the teachers. It was clear that she needed to do something, but she was not sure what, yet.

It would help if she knew Suzue a little better. The two of them had never been close, though; they'd spoken a couple times in class, but that was all. Until Saturday night, when the other girl had revealed herself, knelt at Ochiyo's feet, and offered homage…

And with that thought, instantly, Ochiyo knew what she was going to do.

She even had an idea, at the back of her mind, that today was the perfect day to do it. But that would be easy to check. When lunchtime came, Ochiyo headed for the school library.

月

Makoto prowled the Hibari school grounds at lunchtime, feeling lonely, bewildered, and (though she tried hard to deny this, especially to herself) a little bit afraid.

The news had come as a horrible shock.

She had been nervous about starting a new school today; she'd had too much experience with frequent transfers in her previous life. On the other hand, it did mean an escape from the undeniable problems at her old school, Aosagi. Plus there was only a week to go before the holidays; and, most of all, she knew that there was a friend here already. So in a way, despite the nervousness, she was almost looking forward to it.

Then came those brief few sentences, murmured in her ear outside the main doors this morning. They were…startling. She did not really believe them, not until she looked across the courtyard and saw the stunned expression on Suzue's face: the horrified look of someone who had been caught out. Then the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks: that it was actually true. That a girl she had been starting to like could be one of _those_.

Suzue was a Loonie.

It did not take long to confirm it. She only had to ask. Some of the students she spoke to didn't recognise Suzue's name; not too surprising, since they weren't in the same class. But a surprising number had heard of her, and every last one of them agreed.

A Loonie. A member of the crazy cult that worshipped Queen Serenity. Worshipped Makoto's _friend_, Tsukino Usagi; the very idea was enough to make her feel queasy. She tried to imagine what Serenity would have thought about it, and could only picture her face screwed up in a look of shock and dismay. Heaven knew, Crystal Tokyo had had its share of crackpots—but at least they had spared the queen _that_.

Yet now, seven hundred years later, the unthinkable was among them. The Senshi had a Loonie in their midst, one of their own number. The idea was simply appalling.

Oh, everyone knew about the Loonies. They were generally shunned, and for good reason. 'Crackpot' was the kindest name that could be given them. They were the ones who handed out incoherent leaflets in the street, or held crazy, impassioned rallies in public places. That much was harmless enough, and mostly people just laughed at them. But there were darker stories, too: articles in some of the newsies about people who'd been kidnapped by the cult and brainwashed; or nightmarish confessions of de-programmed ex-Loonies. Rumours of members who had themselves surgically altered to look like the queen or her Senshi; the very thought gave Makoto the shivers. Even whispers of assaults on Clavers, supposedly prompted by the way Serenity had exiled to Nemesis the malcontents who would not accept her rule. (The histories always made the decision sound so cold. But Makoto had been there, and that was not the way it had been. She remembered the agony of that time.)

Yes, mostly people just laughed. But often, there was a note of doubt hidden in their laughter; an element of uncertainty, even fear. Because there were aliens in their midst, madmen among them, and who knew what they were capable of? Who knew what their crazy religion might prompt them to do next?

Her head was buzzing. Makoto sat down in a shady spot overlooking the tennis courts, but the sound of other students at play did nothing to ease the turmoil in her mind. Try as she might to think of something else, she kept coming back to the situation, again and again. Suzue was a Loonie. A Loonie.

And that was not even the worst part.

Lies. Secrets, deception and lies; that was the core of it. Lies, as she had learned, that cut like a knife. Suzue was a Loonie, and she had hidden the truth from the rest of them.

The voice of her father echoed in Makoto's mind, dark and solemn: _A lie of omission is still a lie._ She winced, half-closing her eyes as if blinded by the sun.

A Loonie among the Senshi. A cuckoo in the family. Her father had called Makoto that, too.

The truth came back to haunt them all, didn't it?

No. Makoto clenched her fists. She had to be missing something; there had to be more than that. Suzue was a Senshi. She was Sailor Uranus. Makoto could not just dismiss her like that. There had to be a reason. She had to work it out.

She needed, she realised then, to talk to somebody. She thought about calling Seki, but she already knew what Seki would say; she could almost picture the explosion. She thought about calling Dhiti, but Dhiti would only make a joke of it. Who did that leave, that Makoto could trust?

Artemis, perhaps; and at that thought, she felt a feeling of almost palpable relief. The cat was not always reliable—he had done a fine enough job of messing up Makoto's memories—but there was nothing wrong with his judgement. She could go around to Dhiti's place after school and talk the thing over with him. He would find a way to make sense of it all, somehow. She was sure of it.

She glanced at her watch and saw that lunch break was nearly over. Rubbing her forehead—she had developed a headache—she got up and started back toward class.

Inside once more, the pain in her head eased and she walked briskly, feeling almost relaxed. Then, some distance ahead, a door opened and she saw Ochiyo coming out of a room that she vaguely recalled was the library. Makoto blinked. In the midst of everything else, she had almost forgotten that Ochiyo went to Hibari too.

Ochiyo had not noticed her, and Makoto started forward to greet the girl. She was the ideal one to talk to about this whole situation, after all; who could be better? But then, a moment later, Makoto froze in place as she realised something else.

Ochiyo and Suzue had been going to the same school for a long time already. They knew each other; they even shared a Home Ec class. And everyone at this school knew about Suzue—everyone. That meant that Ochiyo knew too.

And she hadn't said a word.

More secrets. More lies.

Feeling more alone than ever, Makoto turned away. Her headache had come back. She spent the rest of her break trying to find another way to look at the situation, but she could find nothing. Turning it over and over in her head, brooding endlessly…

…And starting to get angry.

* * *

Another closed session of the Serenity Council. The chairman grimaced. They were becoming far too common, of late; but word had gotten out, and the other councillors needed to be appeased.

At least Twelve wasn't here.

He sat down at the council table, sparing a momentary glance at the small brass plate bearing the numeral '1' set into the table surface in front of him. If he had been alone, he would have scowled at the sight. Back before he'd become a councillor, he'd thought it was a good idea, calling everyone by numbers instead of names. It emphasised the role, rather than the personality; it said that they were here to do a job. Now, though, all he could think was how dehumanising it was.

_As if we weren't inhuman enough already!_

He nodded to the other councillors, and they hushed. Only Two, Three, Five and Seven were here today; they were the only ones who knew the truth about 'M' Division. And even they, he sometimes thought, were too many.

The chairman cleared his throat and said without preliminaries, "All right. It seems you've already heard the news, so let me confirm it. In brief: the Senshi raided 'M' Division last night. They found the underground laboratory, and M herself has escaped."

No need to mention the matter of the Interdiction Controller to them. That could remain his little secret for a while longer. Until he knew exactly who to trust.

Number Seven was the first to react, as he might have guessed. "How could you allow this to happen!" he whined. "How did the Senshi learn about M? If _they've_ got her now, we don't—"

Five looked around at him, and he cut off immediately. Seven had always been a little afraid of the head of 'W' Division. But she only said, in a mild tone, "Perhaps we should hear the whole story before we panic."

"Indeed," said the chairman. "Thank you. As it happens, we are quite certain that M did _not_ leave in the company of the Senshi. Her exact method of egress is somewhat mysterious, in fact, though the latest report I have suggests that—" he glanced down at a paper on the desk before him "—she somehow managed to fly out," he finished with a faint frown.

"Fly?" exclaimed Three, startled.

"Indeed. After erasing her records quite thoroughly, I should add. We still do not know exactly how she accomplished…either feat."

"It hardly matters how she got out, does it?" asked Seven waspishly. "What matters is that she's gone. That woman is a priceless asset to Japan—a one-woman technological lead over the rest of the world! We created a whole division just to hide her, for heaven's sake. Without her—"

"Let's not get carried away," suggested Two. As ever, he remained calm and in control. "We've had M for twenty or thirty years, and I dare say she's been valuable. But—"

"But nothing," Seven retorted. Scowling at Two, he said, "She invented the Opal single-handed, how's that for valuable? They say only half a dozen other mathematicians in the world can even follow the equations for how the damn things work. Or how about Aracel? She did most of the basic research that led—"

"My point," interrupted Two smoothly, "is that while her loss is significant, it is hardly critical. We survived before her. We will survive after."

"Always assuming it remains a loss," said Five thoughtfully. "Number Three, I assume your people will be looking for her."

"Of course," said Three, nodding. "Her description has been circulated through 'S' and 'P' Divisions. But you'll appreciate that we have to be circumspect; we can hardly tell everyone that they're looking for the Serenity Council's secret super-genius."

"What do you think of the chances of recapturing her?" asked Two. He looked at the chairman, not at Three.

The chairman hesitated. "Quite good," he said after a moment. "The physical evidence in her laboratory suggests that she left in a hurry; it's possible that the Senshi's raid forced her hand in some way. So she was probably not as prepared as she might have liked. Also, one must remember that she has been our prisoner for a considerable length of time. She may find the world outside her laboratory…different from what she expects."

"Exactly," said Three. "She'll be lost, alone, and bewildered. I think our chances of taking her are excellent."

"Hm," Two said thoughtfully. "I wonder."

The chairman raised his eyebrows. "You doubt it?"

"I think that a woman with as formidable a mind as M would not have escaped, in a hurry or otherwise, unless she had a definite goal in mind."

There was a short silence. Then Five said quietly, "And there also arises the question of whether she may try to work against us—or may be _used_ against us. She knows a great deal."

"Mm. Enough to be inconvenient, yes." The chairman pursed his lips. "What, then?"

"We need to anticipate. At a minimum, all 'M' Division security systems should be updated immediately. By preference, all other divisions as well." Five paused, and her lips quirked in the merest hint of a smile. "We can claim it's in response to a Sankaku intrusion, I suppose."

There were nods around the table. Then, slowly, Two said, "I wonder if we should go further than that."

Again, the chairman raised his eyebrows.

"Number Seven is right that M is an important technical loss. Not just for the country, but for _us_. Genuine polymath geniuses of her calibre are rare, and I dare say we've all benefited from her skills. But there's an ancient proverb about eggs and baskets."

The chairman could not restrain a smile. He said, "And so?"

"Whether she's recaptured or not, I think we should move to reduce our dependence on a single resource. We should significantly expand the R&D facilities of 'K' Division. That will be a popular move in a lot of sectors; putting money into science makes us look forward-thinking. But we can take the same opportunity to expand 'M' Division as well, behind the scenes. Start recruiting technical personnel in all specialities, from all areas. Unconventional thinkers: people with imagination, not career types. It will, at a minimum, leave us better positioned against…well, against a number of fronts."

"Try to substitute quantity for quality?" the chairman inquired with a dubious frown. "Not usually a very effective solution."

"No, but it's a good deal better than doing nothing at all. And if M _is_ recaptured, as our friend Number Three promises—" he shot a sardonic smile at Three, who glared in return "—then the effort still won't be a waste. Basic research never is."

"There are those who would disagree." The chairman shrugged, then nodded. "It's not a bad thought," he admitted. It dovetailed rather nicely with some of his own thinking, as a matter of fact, though he was hardly about to say that out loud.

"We'll need to raise this at a full Council meeting, and discuss a budget with Number Four," put in Seven.

"True," the chairman replied. "But Four doesn't need to know about 'M' Division, of course. I have discretionary funds there; actually, there's no reason not to start recruiting immediately. In fact, there's just one problem…"

Two frowned. "What?"

"You want to expand 'K' Division—but that's Twelve's department. So, do you want to be the one to inform her, or shall I?"

The chairman watched, with well-concealed satisfaction, as Two's eyes widened and the man actually turned pale. Around the table, Three and Seven also stiffened and looked away. Five, he saw with interest, showed no reaction at all.

"I take I should be the bearer of tidings," he said dryly. "Very well. Is there any other business, before we close?"

"Yes, actually," said Five. "We still haven't talked about 'M' Division itself—and the security breach on Saturday night. How did the Senshi know to go there? And what _else_ have they learned?"

"Do they know about _us_?" added Seven.

The chairman nodded. "Yes," he said, "I believe so." Slowly, he began to smile. "And about time, too."

月

The meeting went on for another twenty minutes, discussing implications and ramifications. Very little of it was likely to be of any use in the long run, but the chairman did make two or three mental notes of points that had not already occurred to him. He did not write them down, of course; his hands no longer had that kind of flexibility.

Afterward, he spoke privately to Three. "The idea of enlarging our technical base is a good one," he said, "but there's a problem. Where the 'M' Division expansion is concerned, we can hardly advertise what we're recruiting people for! At least to begin with, I think we may want to focus on people who already have a background in…desirable areas."

Three made a wry face. "You're saying you want to strip 'S' Division's best technical staff," he said.

"Only some of them," the chairman replied calmly. "'D' Division, too, and probably a few others. Come, now; you knew this was what we were talking about."

"I suppose so," Three grumbled. Then his expression changed. In a very different tone, he said, "Actually, this might be even useful. There's a group in my division that's been…getting a little too close to some things they don't need to know."

"Well, then," the chairman said, smiling. "You see how easy it can be?"

月

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* * *

Early on Monday afternoon, a middle-aged woman with long, lank grey hair knocked on Nakada Akio's window. It startled him a little, because—quite apart anything else—he was sitting in a fifteenth-floor office.

He went over to the window and looked out…and then down. She was not standing on anything; she seemed to be hovering in midair. There was a bulky device of some kind, like a large backpack, strapped to her back.

He took another look. Nope; no jets of flame belching out from the bottom of the device. It wasn't a rocket pack, then. Not that he'd ever heard of a practical, functioning rocket pack; but you never knew.

She knocked on the window again: a gentle rap, this time. "Have you seen enough yet?" she asked politely. Her voice was muffled, indistinct through the glass, but he could make her out well enough.

He cleared his throat. "Ah…yes, thank you."

"Could you let me in, then, dear? I can't stay here forever. Someone down below will notice."

Was this some kind of fantastic practical joke? It was the sort of thing Koji or Senzo would pull if they could, but how? He couldn't see a wire. It suddenly occurred to him that if the woman were dangling from something attached to the backpack—or even if she were wearing a real rocket pack—she'd be hanging heavily from the straps. But she wasn't. She might have been strolling gently down the street…except that her legs hung limply below her.

"Er. The window doesn't open, I'm afraid," he said.

She sighed, almost inaudibly. "Stand back, then. And cover your eyes." She reached for something attached to her belt.

Akio hid behind the desk instead. He was not entirely stupid, and however impossible this all was, he suspected that his office was about to be filled with shards of flying glass.

There wasn't any explosion, though. Instead he felt a wave of heat roll over him, and when he poked his head up again he saw a big hole in the middle of the window. The edges were rippled and distorted, and a little trickle of red-hot molten glass was still dripping from the bottom down onto the carpet. The carpet was beginning to smoke quite heavily.

There was a horrible smell for a few seconds, but then it was blown away by the fresh air coming from outside. If this was a hallucination, it was impressively detailed.

The old woman did something to a control pad strapped to her wrist. She floated up a little, and then forward. She had to duck her head and squirm a little to get through the hole without touching the sides. Akio regained enough presence of mind to reach up and help her down to the floor. He took the opportunity to pick up his drinking water bottle and sprinkle the contents over the burning carpet.

"Thank you," the old woman said. She did something to her control pad again, and suddenly the backpack sagged down on her back. Akio had to put out a hand and catch her to stop her from falling. She was breathing rather hard, he saw now that she was up close. Her face was pale. And her hair definitely needed a wash. So did the rest of her, actually.

"Um," he said. "Um…"

She pulled a little piece of paper from her pocket and glanced at it. "I do hope I've got the right office," she said. "Are you Nakada Akio?"

"Ah. Yes?" He was beginning to enjoy this, to tell the truth. It made no sense, but it was delightfully whimsical.

"Of the Sankaku Clans? Cyber division, Shinpo clan?"

She smiled at him.

And in an instant, his befuddlement was gone, swept away by the rush of cold fear that flooded through his mind. There was no _possible_ way she could know that. This was some kind of trap. And he was standing here gawping at her like an idiot—

He staggered back, then whirled and tried to rush for the door. Before he had got more than two steps, he heard a low humming sound from behind him, and the door handle suddenly glowed a dull red.

"Now, now," the old woman said calmly. "There's no need for that, dear."

He looked back over his shoulder. She was just standing there, watching him. She was still smiling, though somehow the expression no longer looked friendly.

"Who…who are you?" Akio whispered. "What do you want? And…and how did you get up here, anyway?"

She nodded in approval. "Asking the right questions at last," she said. "My name is M—and as for how I got here, this thing on my back is a personal Opal field generator."

It took him a couple of seconds to grasp what she had said. "Personal?" he said stupidly. "There's no such thing. The, the multiplex phase fields can't be made to focus that tightly. It's a physical law."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her smile changed for a moment, becoming one of real pleasure. "Really," she said. "How interesting." Then, sardonically: "I guess I can't have flown up here, then."

For no obvious reason, he found himself shivering. He suddenly realised that he was afraid of her, of this mad old woman. There was something unnerving in her eyes, and the way she knew far too much. Something in the way she stood and smiled at him and spoke so politely—and yet kept her thumb firmly on her control pad.

"What do you want?" he asked again.

"Why, I've come here to talk to your leaders," she answered. Her smile widened and seemed to change once more: to become something bright and febrile and almost hungry; and involuntarily, he shuddered.

"You see, I think we might be of use to each other."

* * *

Makoto scowled to herself when she saw the dark-haired girl standing at the school gates after school, waiting. She had hoped to avoid this for a while yet, but there was no backing away from it now.

She had spent the afternoon dwelling on the problem, growing steadily more and more furious. How could Suzue _do_ this to them! How could she betray them all like this?

For betrayal was exactly what it was. The Senshi were supposed to be a team; they were almost a family, in a way. They needed to be able to work together, to trust one other absolutely. But Suzue had been deceiving them all, right from the start. She was not in this to fight the enemy, to save the world; she was out to serve her twisted idea of a goddess. And who knew what she would do if the two came into conflict?

_Oh, God, Serenity. I'm so sorry. How you would have hated this._

For that matter, who knew what Suzue had _already_ done? That idea had come to Makoto suddenly in the middle of a long, dull math class, and it was scarily plausible. Who might Suzue have told, for example? Her fellow Loonies, surely; it was hard to believe that she had not revealed everything to them. How they must have enjoyed it! How they must have celebrated! And did Suzue enjoy it, too, being feted by the rest of the crazies? Makoto snorted. Of course she must.

(_Is this true?_ her father said in the back of her mind. _You are no true daughter of mine, but some kind of…__cuckoo_?)

What else had Suzue told them, though? Would she have revealed everything? Did the crazies know who _Makoto_ was? Or Seki? Were they out there, even now…watching?

The situation had plagued Makoto all afternoon. But even beyond that was the purely personal betrayal. She had thought she could trust Suzue; she had even thought she liked her. But now she had found that the girl she thought she knew was a sham: a ragged fanatic, a disease in the name of religion. And this was what she and the others had in their midst? _This_ was to be their teammate? It was beyond belief; far beyond tolerable. She could not accept it. She would not.

Somewhere deep inside, a nagging voice kept suggesting that she was being wildly unfair. Suzue was certainly no ragged fanatic; if anything, she went in the opposite direction, trying a little too hard for elegance. She had never given any impression of moral decay. Oh, she could be harsh, acerbic, that was true; but she was seldom _wrong_, just a little lacking in compassion or tact. And—

And the hell with it. Makoto was not going to make excuses for her. Suzue was a liar and a betrayer, poison in their midst, and Makoto was going to deal with her, and that would be that.

As she approached the gates, Suzue moved to intercept her. There was something odd about her appearance; her face was puffy, and she had a definite black eye. Makoto hesitated at the sight, then ignored it. She waited until Suzue was within speaking range and said, sharply, "Well?"

Suzue flinched. Then, in a resigned tone, she said, "I guess you've been…hearing some things about me."

"Oh, I don't know. What could I possibly have heard? Things like, say, you've been lying to us all along?"

Again, just for an instant, Suzue winced. "I haven't lied."

"A lie of omission is still a lie." Makoto gave a hollow laugh. "My father taught me that. Thanks, Dad."

"And is it so important, that I never mentioned what church I go to?" Suzue shook her head. "Does that really matter so much? Makoto-san, I assure you, I _know_ what people think of it—what you're probably thinking right now. So I kept my mouth shut." She made a wry face, then grimaced as if in pain. "Trust me, I have plenty of practise in that."

"It matters," Makoto said in a cold voice. "It matters when you trample all over my friend's memory. When you…you piss all over everything she stood for. That matters."

Suzue narrowed her eyes at the words, but did not look away. She regarded Makoto for an uncomfortable length of time. Then something in her seemed to wilt. "And you'll never hear anything different, will you? No matter what I say. Your mind is made up."

"Goddamn right it is. You've lied to us, and you've betrayed us all. You've made your bed; now lie in it."

Suzue started to reply, then winced again and reached up to touch her swollen cheek. "And yet," she said softly. "And yet, I spoke to the Blessed Lady Serenity on Saturday night, just as you did. And she did not reject me, Makoto-san."

"Just shut your dirty mouth, all right?" Abruptly Makoto was sick of this. She felt…unclean, and more than a little bit disgusted: with Suzue and with herself. "Just go away. I don't want to hear the sound of your voice again."

"I—" Suzue wavered. Then she nodded. "All right. I'll go now. But you must realise we can't avoid each other. There'll be times when—" She lowered her voice. "When we have to fight together."

"Yeah? We'll see about that." Makoto turned away from her and started to stalk through the gate. Then something made her pause and she said, "What happened to your face, anyway?"

"My _face_?" Suzue stared at her incredulously, and let out something that could have been a rusty laugh. "Nothing that hasn't happened a dozen times before." She gave Makoto a look that was difficult to read. "What does it matter to _you_?" Then, without waiting for a reply, she pushed roughly past Makoto and started down the street.

Makoto watched her go, blinking in surprise. Then her darker mood returned. _Walk away from __me_, will you? she thought furiously. She took a step after Suzue—and paused yet again as a hand touched her arm.

"Nicely done," someone said.

She whirled about, to see the girl who had warned her about Suzue that morning, standing there and giving her a friendly smile. "What—?"

"Very nicely done," the girl repeated, nodding in approval and gesturing toward Suzue. "Scrape them off; it's the only way that kind ever learn." She smiled once more, and offered a friendly hand. "I'm Mariko. Arita Mariko."

Makoto stared at her. Then she swatted her hand away, hard. "Just shut up, you," she snarled. "Just…shut up. This is your fault too."

"Well! I would have thought—"

But Makoto did not stay to hear what Arita Mariko would have thought. She flung her satchel over her shoulder and marched away, ignoring the indignant sniff behind her. Her thoughts were whirling; a hundred impulses, all of them crazy, raced through her mind. After a little while, she realised what she had to do.

She found a quiet spot where nobody could see her, lifted her Senshi communicator, and touched the tiny control panel. A second later, the screen lit up with Dhiti's face.

"Hi, Dhiti-chan," Makoto said. "Listen, there's something you need to know…"

When she was done with Dhiti, she called Beth. Then Iku, but Iku did not answer. Ochiyo, she did not need to bother with. Seki, she would see tonight. One way or another, they would all find out. They would all know the truth.

When she had finished committing her own betrayal, she picked up her satchel once more and trudged home. Her belly was churning again; her thoughts were slow and heavy, and thick with disgust and loathing. But the really baffling part was that she could not seem to decide whom she despised more: Suzue or herself.

* * *

Dhiti stared at her communicator. Makoto's call had been short; her voice had been terse and clipped, and Makoto herself had clearly been upset, but Dhiti was at a loss to understand why. So Suzue was a Loonie. That was interesting, but why was it a problem?

On the other hand…Suzue was a Loonie. That _was_ interesting. Slowly, Dhiti began to smile.

月

Beth walked home from school, still turning over in her mind what Nanako had said to her at lunchtime. It was mystifying. What could be so important about a puppy? She was half-minded to call Iku that evening, just to clear the matter up.

Then she got a comm message from Makoto, and when it was finished she had something new to think about. Her thoughts were filled with the awful memory of a time weeks before: of a policeman, one who had knelt at her feet, offered her reverence, and tried to kiss her hand. Over and over again she saw it, and felt again the sickening fear. Knowing that Suzue, whom she had been beginning to think of as a friend, was cut of the same cloth.

By the time she reached home, she was too befuddled and upset to do more than grunt to her mother and Bendis. Any thought of calling Iku was long gone.

* * *

When Suzue got home, her mother looked at her face, sighed, then helped her clean up without a word. It was nothing either of them had not dealt with before. Itagaki Aiko had taken her own beatings when she was at school, and since. They were a simple fact of life.

When Suzue peeled off her blouse and pants, there were more bruises underneath. At least Rinako and her cohorts had not drawn blood. They were always careful; blood would make the teachers take notice. Well, whatever their reasons, she was glad of the restraint.

A long, hot shower helped more. Then she dressed again, in her good clothes, and paused a moment in the family shrine to kneel, bow her head before the altar, and trace a crescent on her forehead.

_Why can't she see?_ she asked the painting of Serenity above the altar. _It's so obvious, so why can't any of them __see_?

No answer came from the painting. Instead she remembered the golden figure in Itsuko's office two nights before, tall, beautiful and majestic. Remembered her words: _Rise, faithful one._ And: _I know what trials you face._

She rose. Feeling a lot better, she went out into the living room. Her mother was there, also dressed in her good clothes. The older woman had laid out three plates of food on the table: just a light snack, for now. It was Monday, and they would eat dinner late tonight.

Suzue knelt at the table and picked at her food in a desultory way. Her mother waited a discreet interval before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Suzue sighed. "It wasn't even my fault," she said. She told her mother what had happened, though she referred to Makoto only as 'a friend of a friend' and, of course, left out the Senshi aspect. "She was so bitter, after school," she said. "Nothing I could say…it wasn't like I'd been trying to convert her, or anything. I never even mentioned the church to her! But as soon as she knew about it…she didn't want anything to do with me any more."

Aiko nodded. She reached out and drew Suzue to her, holding her close and stroking her hair. "I know," she said sadly. "They never do, do they? Not most of them."

"I just—I thought she'd be different," Suzue said. "I thought—_she_ ought to be different."

The stroking did not falter. "Oh? Why?"

For a long time, Suzue did not reply. Then she said, "No reason. I'm just being silly." She clung to her mother for a moment longer, then sat upright once more. "I guess I was daydreaming," she said bitterly, half to herself.

Aiko raised one eyebrow, but did not reply. Instead she said, "Eat up. We have to leave soon."

"Yeah. Right." Suzue pulled her plate to her once more. "Where's Daddy, anyway? He's late."

"He called earlier; he's been held up at work. You know they don't make allowances for—"

Aiko broke off as they heard a sudden knock at the door. Suzue huffed, then stood up from the table. "I'll get it," she said. "He probably left his keys at home again. He always—"

She broke off in surprise as she opened the door. It was not her father on the doorstep. It was another face, less familiar…and wholly unexpected.

"Ochiyo-san?" she said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"Um. Hello," said Ochiyo. This was not the warm, confident girl Suzue had spoken to after the raid on 'M' Division. She actually looked nervous. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I'm sorry to interrupt. I guess you're surprised to see me. Um." Ochiyo blinked at her for a moment, then said in a rush, "See, I wanted to ask you something—and it's kind of awkward."

Suzue sighed. "This is about what happened at school today, isn't it?"

"Well, sort of. It's about what you—"

Shaking her head, Suzue interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Ochiyo-san." In a lower voice, she added, "Ochiyo-sama." Then, in a normal tone once more: "We were about to go out—my family and I—and it's really not a good time."

"No! No, that's what I wanted to ask you!" Ochiyo took a deep breath, and went on, "You're going to church tonight, right? I've been doing some reading, and the—the Church of Serenity has services on Mondays, right?"

"Well…yes. Uh, why?"

"Because I want to go with you."

"…What?"

Suzue stared at her, dumbfounded. This, above all, she had never imagined; not in her wildest dreams. The very idea was so ridiculous, so utterly ludicrous that it could only be some kind of joke—

"I want to go with you," Ochiyo repeated. "If it's not too much trouble."

She was not joking, Suzue realised with a sense of utter bewilderment. She actually meant it. "Really?" she said, in what seemed to her to be a frighteningly small voice.

"Yes." Dropping her voice a little, Ochiyo murmured, "The other night, I told you that I didn't know, remember? Well, maybe I should find out. And—" She paused, biting her lip, then said, "This is important to you. Really important, right?" She waited for Suzue's nod, and went on, "So I guess I ought to at least know something about it. Okay?"

"But—" Suzue stumbled for words. "But you don't have to—"

"You don't want me? Or—oh. Is it even allowed? I didn't think, but maybe you've got some kind of rule—"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean—" For the first time, Suzue took a closer look at her, and saw what Ochiyo was wearing. Sombre, dignified, almost formal clothes. Ochiyo was dressed for church.

"You would be very welcome," she finished helplessly.

"Thank you," replied Ochiyo, and smiled.

They hovered awkwardly on the doorstep for a minute longer, before Suzue remembered herself and invited Ochiyo in. They went through to the living room, where Suzue introduced Ochiyo to her mother, and explained what she was here for.

Aiko looked astonished for a tiny fraction of a second, before covering it with a welcoming smile. "Please, sit down," she said, indicating the table. "I'll get you a plate." She hurried out of the room.

Ochiyo's face was bright red. She knelt at the table obediently, giving a slightly dubious glance at the plates. "I'm not actually all that hungry," she mumbled.

"It's a timing thing," Suzue murmured back. "Dinner will be late, after church, so we usually have a snack before."

"Oh. Okay." Ochiyo looked as if she were about to add something more, but at that moment Aiko bustled back in, carrying a fourth plate, which she laid before Ochiyo. It contained rather more than the other three plates, Suzue noticed, and she saw Ochiyo's lips twitch as she realised it too.

"So, Ochiyo-san," said Aiko brightly, joining them at the table and smiling. "You're one of Suzue's school friends? Welcome to our home. But I wonder what made you decide to come with us tonight? Not that we're not delighted to have you, of course. But it's…"

"Kind of unusual?" suggested Ochiyo. Aiko flushed, and Ochiyo went on quickly, "Sorry—I didn't mean to be rude. But I, um—"

"We all know what most people think of us," said Suzue, her voice flat.

"—I guess so. Aizawa-san, I'm not exactly one of Suzue-san's friends. I know her a bit from a couple of classes, that's all. But we ran into each other over the weekend, and got talking, and it made me start thinking about things. And, well, there was another girl who started at Hibari today, and—" Ochiyo glanced at Suzue's black eye, then away. "I suppose you already know what happened. It was all over the school by lunchtime. Not the first time, either."

"We have all been through it," said Aiko softly.

"And I started to think: I've heard all the same things everyone else has, I've avoided you like the rest of them, but when I talked to you on Saturday, you seemed, well, okay. And what _do_ I know, really?" Ochiyo looked squarely up at Aiko and said, "So I came to find out. Aizawa-san, I'll be honest; I may never come back. This may be the only time I go anywhere near the—uh, the Church of Serenity. But at least from now on I'll know what I'm talking about."

"Bravo," said a deep new voice. They all looked around, to see a tall, dark-haired man standing at the living room door. Suzue had not even heard her father come in.

"Daddy!" she said happily, jumping up and running to him.

He gave her a boisterous bear-hug. "Hello, little Suzu-tan," he said with a laugh. Suzue growled at the childhood nickname and tried to punch him in the ribs, but he only laughed again. He caught her chin in one big, strong hand and lifted it up to study her face. "You've been through the wars," he murmured.

Suzue nodded, broke free, and buried her face in his chest again. Then she released him, stepped away, and nodded toward Ochiyo. "Daddy, this is Aizawa Ochiyo-san," she said, "and she's here to come with us tonight."

"I heard," he said and bowed to Ochiyo, who made a slightly awkward bow back. "Aizawa-san, I am Itagaki Kazuo. You are most welcome to join us tonight. I wish more people had your courage. And your integrity."

"Actually, Aizawa-san," Ochiyo replied, a thoughtful look on her face, "I'm starting to be very glad I came."

"So?" His lips twitched. Then he glanced over at the wall clock. "Well, now. It's getting late. Let's eat; and then we must be going."

They made short work of the snack. Then, while Kazuo hurried off to change his clothes, Suzue rather self-consciously invited Ochiyo through to her room.

They sat on the bed, and an awkward silence fell. Suzue watched Ochiyo as the girl looked around with obvious interest, and tried to imagine what she must be thinking. This was the daughter of the Blessed Lady, the daughter of Suzue's goddess—and she was right here before her, close enough to touch—

"Wow," said Ochiyo. "You're really interested in aeroplanes, aren't you?"

Jarred from her reverie, Suzue looked around. Ochiyo was gazing at her shelf of flight manuals, notebooks and certificates. "Oh—yes. I'm learning to fly, actually."

"Really?" Ochiyo's eyes lit up. "That is so cool! I've never been in an aeroplane, never. Take me up, sometime? Pleeeeeease?"

"Uh, well, maybe after I've got my license." Suzue's eyes strayed to her log book, and unconsciously, she smiled. "You'll be the second one I take up—okay?"

"Second?" said Ochiyo, pouting. "Oh, come on! I don't wanna waaaait. You can take me first, can't you?" Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed. She dropped her voice and fixed Suzue with a penetrating gaze. "Whoever the other one is, _they_ can wait," she hissed. "After all, remember who I am, Suzue-san."

"But I—" Suzue broke off, startled and then appalled. Ochiyo could command her, and she had no choice but to obey. But Suzue had promised Minoru that he would be the first. Surely Ochiyo would not—

She paused. And said, "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

Ochiyo winked at her. "Betcher ass, Suzu-tan."

Suzue groaned, and slowly felt herself relax. "You and Dhiti-san," she said with a sigh. "Honestly."

"But if I'd pushed it, you'd probably have given in, wouldn't you?" Ochiyo nodded thoughtfully. "We'll have to work on that, Suzue-chan."

"I have no idea what you're talking about—"

But at that moment, Suzue's mother tapped at the door, and it was time to go.

The Queen Heart Chapel of the Church of Serenity was only ten minutes' walk away, and normally Suzue and her family would have gone on foot; but tonight, as a courtesy to Ochiyo, they were driving. As Aiko, Suzue and Ochiyo trooped outside, Kazuo, now wearing a dark, formal suit, was unlocking the garage. There was a bright smear of fresh paint on the door, Suzue saw—"LOONIES OUT"—and she winced.

Ochiyo's eyes widened as she saw the graffiti too. "What—" she began.

"We're not just a target at school," Suzue said in a low voice. "Ignore it, Ochiyo-san. It's nothing to do with you."

"But—o-okay."

Kazuo drove the car out of the garage, then carefully closed the door and locked it once more. Then, at last, they drove off.

It was only a little past seven; the sun was still above the horizon, and the sky was deepening into a rich, deep blue. Above it and a little to the south, a thin sliver of silver light was visible: the moon, just past new.

The streets were quiet and Kazuo drove with firm assurance, his hand confident on the steering bar. After a minute, Ochiyo said, "Can I ask a question?"

"Surely," said Kazuo.

"Well, I said I'd been doing some reading, and I think I understood most of it. But I didn't quite get, why Monday? I mean, it must be pretty inconvenient. Why have your services on Monday nights?"

"Ah." Kazuo chuckled. "Yes. That's an easy question—and yet, surprisingly complex. The answer, Aizawa-san, is that Monday is the day of the Moon."

Ochiyo started to speak, but he cut her off. "No—let me finish. Of course it's a trivial answer. Monday, 'getsuyoubi', is 'moon day.' That's easy. But did you know that Monday is also 'moon day' in English? And also French, and Spanish, and Italian, and German, and Dutch, and Afrikaans, and more. Even in Hindi, 'somvaar'—and Tibetan, and Welsh, and a lot of others. Some of those languages are related, of course, but not all. It's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

Ochiyo did not answer for a second. "Really? Wow."

He chuckled again. "Really. So the answer to your question, Aizawa-san, is that we do not believe it is a coincidence. We believe that Monday is truly the day of the Moon, and so that is the day when we do reverence to the Moon's Lady." He fell silent, but then added, "Some scholars believe that the names may be a distant memory, reaching back to the days of the Silver Millennium itself. It's a sobering idea."

"I suppose it is," said Ochiyo, and fell silent, her expression thoughtful. And a few seconds later, the car pulled to a halt in the parking lot of a broad, solid building with cream-painted walls.

There was more graffiti here, a lot of it, but somebody had been working hard to clean it off. All the same, Suzue found her lips tightening as she went past, and she hoped that Ochiyo would not see. She had never, never expected any of this, that the new Sailor Moon might come here, but it was going so well, and she did not want anything to spoil it…

月

Ochiyo noticed the graffiti as she walked toward the entrance, and hid a frown. She had not really considered before today just how negative the church's image was. Oh, everyone called them the Loonies and knew they were mad—and Ochiyo was as guilty of that as anyone—but Suzue's beating today, and the scrawls she had seen painted on the Itagaki garage door, and imperfectly erased here, spoke of a depth of animosity that had never occurred to her.

Why, though? She had never really thought about that before, either. Sure, the Loonies believed that Queen Serenity was a goddess, and okay, that was a bit crazy; but all of this was…out of proportion. She had to be missing something, but she could not see what.

She put that train of thought on hold as they reached the door. However it had looked outside, inside the Queen Heart Chapel was clean and dignified. They paused in the foyer to remove their shoes, and then moved on into the main hall. Ochiyo stopped in the entryway, staring around her.

To either side of her, the walls arced around in a gentle curve, forming half of a long ellipse. Soft, slow music was playing. The body of the hall was dimly lit, but ahead of her, at the narrow end of the ellipse, brighter lights shone down on what was unmistakably an altar.

The altar itself was rather plain: a truncated pyramid shape, covered with a simple white cloth. A wide, shallow dish rested on top of it, made of some black material and filled with liquid. Half a dozen other silver vessels surrounded it. As Ochiyo watched, a middle-aged man walked up to the altar, knelt, dipped a finger into the liquid, and seemed to touch his forehead. Then he sat back on his heels, his eyes raised to the figures above.

Almost reluctantly, Ochiyo allowed her own eyes to focus on the arcing tableau that filled the wall over the altar. It was a diorama, a group of figures in high relief; it showed nine women, five on the right and four on the left, their eyes all fixed on a tenth woman in the centre, directly over the altar.

She recognised them, of course. In the centre, Queen Serenity, the goddess of these people, smiling gently down at the altar below; and about her, her Senshi. Mizuno Ami; Aino Minako; Chiba Usagi, the queen's own daughter; Hino Rei; Kino Makoto; Tomoe Hotaru; Ten'ou Haruka; and Kaiou Michiru. The last woman's head was bowed; her features could not be made out. The semi-mythical Sailor Pluto: her true identity never known, even her very existence often debated.

"No King Endymion?" Ochiyo murmured, half to herself.

Suzue must have heard her. "Above you," she answered in a low voice.

Ochiyo stepped forward and turned to look up. Sure enough, the rear wall held another figure, in the same style of the others: tall, bare-headed, a gentle smile on his face, he gazed eternally out across the hall at his wife. And was it Ochiyo's imagination, or, as she followed his eyes, was the statue of Serenity not looking down at the altar at all, but fondly back at her husband? Perhaps it was only a trick of the light; it was hard to tell. But suddenly she found herself smiling as well.

She looked up at the statue of Endymion again. He _did_ look like the young man who had kissed her on Saturday night. Damn it.

Suzue tugged on her arm gently. "Come over here," she said. "Let me show you something."

Ochiyo followed her to the right, over to the long curved side of the hall. For the first time she noticed the series of alcoves spaced around the wall. They paused at the first of them and looked in, and she saw a small, darkened space, just big enough to hold two or three people. At the rear was a shelf that held a little cluster of burning candles, and above this was a painting. The image was mostly dark, but in the centre, in brilliant colour and illuminated by a beam of light, was a woman. Ochiyo recognised her without surprise: Mizuno Ami. She wore a long, flowing robe; her eyes looked directly out at the viewer, her head was tilted slightly to one side, and she was smiling faintly. Ochiyo glanced down again and saw that all the candles were blue.

She stared back at the painting for an instant; then, unprompted, she whirled and moved down the hall, stepping around people, to the third alcove. The candles here were silver, and the picture was—

The woman from her dream. Oh, not exactly; this was a painting, not a photograph. But close enough that there could be no doubt: Princess "Small Lady" Usagi; her own elder sister. Ochiyo could not restrain a shiver.

She moved on to the fourth alcove and looked in, and a painting of Seki looked back at her: a Seki with different hair, but still unmistakably the woman she knew from the Olympus.

The fifth alcove, and she saw Makoto.

She stayed there for a minute, staring in at the painting of Lady Kino, and the green candles beneath it. After a little, she realised that Suzue had caught up to her. She looked up and said, "It's them, isn't it? It's really them."

Suzue nodded. "It's hard to get used to."

"Yes." Ochiyo glanced around the hall. "Are they all like this?"

"Pretty much. Except for Lady Pluto; unfortunately nobody knows what Lady Meiou looked like. There are no known photographs of her; a lot of nonbelievers think she never existed at all. Her painting, and the statue over the altar, are based on a woman some of our historians think might have been an alias of hers. A teacher named Sakurada Haruna."

The name meant nothing to Ochiyo. "Okay," she said. Again, her eyes flicked about the chamber, unsettled, and she realised that she was chewing her lip. An old habit, one that she had never broken. "This isn't what I expected," she confessed. "I thought it would be—well, I'm not sure. But this—it really feels like a church."

"And why should it not?" asked a voice. She looked around to see a man standing nearby: slender, fortyish, with hair just starting to turn grey, he wore a full-length cream robe, its hood thrown back, that had a small gold crescent embroidered on the breast. He gave her a smile that made his face come alive, and repeated, "Why shouldn't it? After all, a church is exactly what it is."

Suzue gave him a deep bow, and after an instant's surprise Ochiyo followed suit. "Sensei, this is my friend, Aizawa Ochiyo," Suzue said. "Ochiyo-san, this is Otani Takeru, our auxiliary Intercessor."

"Priest, that is," said Otani cheerfully. "Aizawa-san, I gather you're not a member of our assembly? Then you're doubly welcome. I wish more people your age had as open a mind as you obviously do."

"Um, thank you."

"Not at all. Yes, Aizawa-san, of course this is a church. Did you expect something more outlandish?" He smiled again—it made him look almost boyish—and winked at her. "There's enough of that out there in the world today, don't you think? What we are, here, is a body of ordinary people who come together to recognise and celebrate some extraordinary truths. And that's not outlandish at all, is it?"

Ochiyo hesitated. "Uh—"

Otani chuckled. "I know; I've put you on the spot, and it's unfair of me. Aizawa-san, please: stay with us for this evening, and hear what we have to say. We think it's important, and we hope you'll agree. You'll see that we have a few rituals of our own, but if they make you feel uncomfortable, well, just don't join in. We won't mind. Afterwards, if you have any questions, feel free to come and ask me anything, and I'll try to explain. Fair enough?"

Ochiyo thought about it, and then grinned back. "Fair enough," she answered. "Thank you, Otani-san. Or should that be, Otani-sensei?"

He laughed out loud. "Let's save that for afterward, if you don't mind. Right now, it's nearly time to start, so if you'll forgive me, I have to go—and you and Itagaki-san need to find a spot for the service."

With that, he was gone, leaving Ochiyo looking after him and thinking that she just might find him after the service, simply because she'd enjoyed talking to him. Which, come to think of it, was probably a valuable attribute for a preacher. Or, what did they call it? Intercessor.

Again, she felt a tug on her arm. "Ochiyo-san," Suzue said. "He's right; we should get ready. They're about to begin."

"Oh. Okay. Where do we—?"

Ochiyo looked around, searching for Suzue's parents. They were not easy to spot amid the rest of the people in the hall. The body of the chamber was not filled with pews, as she might have expected before tonight; instead, thin cushions, zabuton, were scattered about the polished wooden floor. As groups of people came in, they simply pulled together as many as they needed, and knelt down on their heels. It meant that the open area of the hall was a variegated sea of heads, more of them than she would have imagined, and individual faces were hard to pick out.

"It doesn't matter," Suzue replied. "We can stay here, if you like. My parents won't mind, and I can tell you what's happening." She bent down and grabbed a pair of zabuton, dropping them again into an open spot at the side of the hall. "I hope you're comfortable in seiza," she added as she knelt on one, "but you can just sit on it if you'd rather…"

"It's okay." Ochiyo knelt gingerly on the other cushion, finding that it was better-padded than it looked. She glanced around, and noticed uncomfortably that a number of the people nearby were looking at her. At an unfamiliar face, she realised. Turning her eyes firmly back to Suzue, she said, "So, what happens now?"

Suzue gave her a faint smile and said, "Now…you find out."

月

The service lasted a little over an hour. Parts of it reminded her of what little she knew of Christian liturgy; others, of Japanese, Chinese and even Indian ritual. Some of it was almost incomprehensible; some was…actually rather moving.

Often during the proceedings, the entire assembly would lift a hand to their heads and make a little gesture there. After a while, Ochiyo realised that they were drawing a crescent-moon sign on their foreheads. She nearly laughed out loud, but then the humour faded; they were all so _serious_ about it. Instead she considered for a little, and then joined in. It seemed harmless enough; and after all, who had a better right?

After the final prayers had been chanted and the assembly began to rise to leave, she stood in silence for a time, still trying to take everything in. Suzue hovered at her side, obviously anxious, until finally Ochiyo asked, as politely as she could, if she could be alone for a minute. Reluctantly, Suzue left to find her parents. Behind her, Ochiyo stood for a moment longer, looking around the hall without really seeing anything, and then went to look for Otani Takeru.

She found him near the altar, speaking quietly with a middle-aged man and woman. When he saw her approach, he raised his eyebrows and made quiet excuses, then walked over to join her.

He looked at her face and said, "I think you have questions after all. Yes?"

"Yes," Ochiyo agreed. "Sensei—" suddenly the word came naturally—"why does everyone hate you?"

"Ah." Carefully, he said, "You mean, why do most people dislike the Church of Serenity so much."

"Yes. I mean, I saw all the graffiti outside—and you must have noticed Suzue-san's black eye—and, well, just everything!"

"I know what you mean. It's not an easy question to answer." Otani rubbed his chin for a moment, his face sober. "All right. There are many reasons why we aren't popular. The simplest, of course, is that most people simply don't believe the things that we do; but that's only the surface. A much bigger reason is that a lot of them are afraid that we're right."

Ochiyo stared at him. "Eh?"

He gave a dry chuckle. "Yes, it's not obvious, is it? But think about it; everybody _knows_ what Queen Serenity did, and how powerful she was. At least subconsciously, they cannot help but see that she was _more_ than they are. For all that she strove, all her life, to be at their level, to he human, in the end she was something bigger and greater than they can ever be. And that's an uncomfortable thought! Nobody likes to think that they're inferior. But then they see us, this bunch of people who openly acknowledge what they're trying to hide from themselves, and that makes them even more uncomfortable. So they resent us for it.

"But, Aizawa-san, the biggest reason that people dislike us—I would not go so far as to say hate—the biggest reason, I say, is that they are actively encouraged to do so."

"Encouraged!"

"Yes, indeed; subtly, but almost universally. Aizawa-san, we live in a nation governed by a body called the Serenity Council. By law, they rule 'in the name of the queen, and until her return.' Every year when they first convene, there's a ceremony in the Council Chambers—you've probably seen it; it's always broadcast—where the councillors swear allegiance to her. In effect, they claim to be a caretaker government, until the real one returns." He paused, his face darkening. "And, Aizawa-san—_they do not like us_."

"Oh." Ochiyo thought about that. "_Oh._"

"Yes again. It's hard to see why; they surely cannot consider us a threat. Perhaps it's that the worship of the Blessed Lady makes one see those who claim to act for Her in a different light. Regardless…there's never anything official, but the bias is there, and has been for as long as I've been alive. It shows in a hundred ways. Government broadcasting never misses an opportunity to poke fun at us, for example; we've seen stories planted in magazines and newspapers, accusing us of every crime and perversion under the sun. We get a fresh tax audit from our friends at 'F' Division every six months, and woe betide us if a single digit is out of place! Or, if someone breaks the windows of this church—it's happened before, many times—it will do no good to complain to the police; they will take down all the details and promise to help, but somehow nothing will happen. I myself have been arrested, several times, on the flimsiest, trumped-up charges. So have many in the church—including your friend Suzue and her family. 'Congregating in a public place,' they called it once—the 'public place' being this church! They can't hold us for long, of course; but it's a pretty dreadful experience anyway."

He gave a wry shrug. "And so on, in a thousand other ways. All of it filters down, Aizawa-san; people notice. It amounts to a systematic campaign to crush us, to make us look mad…and to make us targets for abuse. And it's very effective! Take your friend Suzue. If someone decides to beat her up at school, which is what looks like happened today, she knows that none of her teachers will help her. Some of them might want to—but they know that doing so would make them look like a Loonie sympathiser, and open them up to the same abuse. It's evil…and it works."

Ochiyo did not answer for some time. On one level, his claims were appalling: the idea that people could act that way, in this day and age. And yet—knowing that the Serenity Council was in the control of the Enemy, it actually made a kind of sense.

More distantly, she found herself thinking that now she knew why Suzue had been so ready to attack the Council on Saturday night.

Aloud, she said, "So, what do you do?"

Otani smiled. "We carry on, of course. We are hardly the first people to suffer for our faith, and I doubt that we will be the last. And sometimes, when a person with an open mind comes and asks us questions, without being afraid of the answers—yes, sometimes I think that it's worthwhile." He looked over her shoulder, raised an eyebrow, and said, "And…I think there are some people waiting for you."

Ochiyo turned, and saw Suzue and her parents standing a little distance away. With a shock, she realised that the hall was virtually empty. A glance at her watch showed that she had been talking to the Intercessor for nearly a quarter of an hour.

Turning back to Otani, she said, "I'm sorry! I never thought—but I ought to go—"

He waved her away with a chuckle. "I should hardly have kept you so long, pouring out a tale of our woes. You have a sympathetic face, Aizawa-san." He paused briefly, and then added in a more sober tone, "Do you mind if I bless you? Then go with the blessings of the holy Lady Serenity. May she watch over you and uplift you, and may you find the answers you seek."

Ochiyo bit her lip. "Thank you," she said, and bowed. "Good night, Otani-sensei."

He bowed in return. "If you ever wish to speak again, I'd be happy to oblige. Good night, Aizawa-san."

He turned and walked unhurriedly to the rear of the hall, leaving through a small side door. Ochiyo watched him for a second, then shook her head and hastened to join the Itagaki family.

Itagaki Kazuo shook his head at her apologies with a deep laugh. "Why should you be sorry for wanting to know more? But come; unless there's anything else you want to see here, it's time to go."

The drive back to Suzue's house took only a few minutes, but this time it was conducted in silence. Ochiyo had a lot to think about. For one thing, she had to work out what to say to Suzue when they arrived.

月

Otani Takeru shed his formal robe and drew on a light yukata, then went through to the office of Kagawa Chiaki, the primary Intercessor of the Queen Heart Chapel.

She looked up as he came in, and nodded. "Takeru-kun," she said. "I saw you talking to the new girl. Who was she?"

"A school friend of Itagaki Suzue. And remarkably unprejudiced, I'd say."

Kagawa nodded. "You do get that sometimes. Not as often as we used to, unfortunately." She paused, and added, "What did you think of her?"

"Reasonably intelligent, inquisitive…one of the good ones, all told, but I'm honestly not sure if she'll come back." Otani paused, and then added, "It was interesting. She didn't ask the usual questions—about the new Senshi, and so forth. She asked the hard questions instead."

"Oh?" Kagawa raised her eyebrows, and smiled. "She might be worth watching. If we see her again."

月

The two girls paused outside the front door of Suzue's house. They were alone; Kazuo and Aiko had gone inside. It was dark, but the porch light cast a pale blue glow across the driveway. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" Suzue asked.

"I'd better not," said Ochiyo. "My mother said she'd keep things hot for me until I got back. But thank you."

"It's okay. I'll see you at school tomorrow, I suppose."

"Yes. Suzue-san—thank you for letting me come tonight. It was, well, it was different from what I'd expected. It was actually quite beautiful, in a lot of ways." She bit her lip. "But—oh, I don't know how to say this—"

"You won't be going back," said Suzue flatly.

Ochiyo froze. Then she let her shoulders slump. "No. I don't think so. Suzue-san, it _was_ beautiful—but it's not for me." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It seems rude, and I know you're sincere…but I don't believe she was a goddess. I just don't. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"All right." Suzue's face might have been made of wood.

"How can I? She was my _mother_, Suzue-san. If she was a goddess, what does that make me? I'm just a girl, just an ordinary human being."

"Not so ordinary." For a second more, Suzue's face remained cold and expressionless. Then she shook her head and sighed; the stiffness seemed to flow out of her, and she gave a faint smile. "It's all right, Ochiyo-san. Really."

"Can we still be friends?" asked Ochiyo cautiously.

"Of course we—" Suzue broke off. "You're teasing me again."

Ochiyo winked at her. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow…Suzue-chan."

Suzue nodded back. Then, as Ochiyo turned to go, she said, "Ochiyo-san?"

"Yes?"

"Just so you know," Suzue said, "—I think you're wrong. You _are_ special…and she _was_ a goddess, whether you believe it or not."

After a heartbeat, Ochiyo smiled. She said, "Good."

* * *

It was nearly midnight, and stiflingly hot. Heavy curtains covered the bedroom's one small window, leaving the room airless and shrouded in near-absolute dark.

The darkness did not matter. There was nothing much for Iku to see, anyway. One small, battered chest of drawers; a schoolbag tucked neatly away in a corner; a futon that was elderly, threadbare and nearly flat. Strange how such a battered old thing could feel so lumpy in the middle of the night.

Iku lay on her side and stared at the invisible wall. Her breathing was slow and regular, but she was wide awake. Tired, yes, so tired that she could have screamed, but sleep would not come.

She had been hard at work all day. Mother had finally let her out of the basement at dawn, and even then she had been exhausted. Cold, soiled and miserable, lying on a filthy, bare concrete floor, she had barely slept at all the night before. Nor was she given a chance once her punishment was over. First, she had to clean up the mess in the basement. That was only fair. She had made the mess, after all.

It took her most of the day. Her head was reeling and her body faint from hunger, thirst and lack of sleep, but she finished in the end. Every spot of filth was gone, every centimetre of the floor scrubbed and disinfected. The concrete would not take a polish, but it was not for lack of trying.

Only then was she allowed to shower properly. The water was lukewarm—she had used most of the hot in cleaning—but that was all right. It made it easier to drink.

Masahiko was waiting in the bathroom when she stepped out of the shower. He handed her a towel, mock-politely, smirking all the while as his eyes roamed her body. She tried to snatch the towel away quickly, but he managed to get a hand on one breast and twist her nipple painfully before she broke free and ran to her room.

She dressed as slowly as she dared before coming out. It was late evening by then, and naturally Mother and Masahiko had eaten dinner already. She was allowed some cold rice and equally cold miso soup. It was unpleasant, but she did not care; she wolfed it down. That earned her a further strapping for poor table manners.

Then Iku did the dishes. And cleaned the kitchen.

Only then did Mother tell her, with a sour look of disgust, that as a special favour (which Iku did not deserve), she had sent Masahiko to her school to pick up her homework. So Iku spent another hour and a half under Mother's watchful eye, giddy, faint, sore and slightly nauseous from eating bad food too fast, trying to make sense of geometry problems which she found difficult at the best of times.

Iku did not complain. Why would she? She had been bad; she had brought it upon herself.

And now she was in bed at last, and unbearably hot; but she did not dare open the curtains, or remove her pyjamas, because sometimes Mother checked. And she was still feeling a little sick, and her ankle still throbbed, and her hands and knees were raw from scrubbing, and oh, she was _so_ tired…and if she could just sleep, then maybe everything would be all right in the morning. If only she could sleep.

In vain, she reached for her favourite daydream and tried to bury herself in it: the fantasy that someday, someone would come and tell her that there had been a terrible error; that she was someone else's daughter, not Mother's, and her real mother would take her away, and tell Iku that she _wasn't_ worthless, she _wasn't_ a mistake, she was someone precious…

But the dream would not come. To her horror, she could not seem to picture her phantom mother, that face she knew so well from her imagination: the amalgam of every beautiful, kind and caring face that Iku had ever seen. Instead, she saw a golden woman with stern eyes who looked at her and said, _As long as you think that, you'll be trapped in your cage._

_What cage?_ Iku wanted to protest; but the golden woman only said, _If you want help, all you have to do is ask._

Ask? It seemed so simple…but that was one thing Iku could never do. Because she knew the truth: that she _was_ the mistake, the unworthy one, and if there was one thing she did not deserve, it was to bother others with her own selfish pleas for attention. Mother said so, and so Iku knew it was true.

Instead she lay in the darkness, and stared at the invisible wall, and breathed in and out…and waited. And there were only a few hours to go before she had to get up and start a new day, all over again…

* * *

The following day, after sitting in on yet another endless round of negotiations between eleven groups of growers and pickers who all wanted a better deal from each other, Toyotomi Sese took an unscheduled break. Instead of returning directly to her offices in the Council Chambers, she walked three blocks to a little mid-city park. It was a hot, dry afternoon, though there was heavy rain expected the next day. She bought a cold drink from a cart vendor, found a shady spot, and sat down on a park bench to stretch out her legs and sip her drink.

Three minutes later, a small, rat-faced man with a sour expression sat down at the other end of the bench. Sese glanced around the park. It was the middle of the afternoon, and nobody else was about. She said, "You're late."

"_You're_ late," said Trio. "I've been here more than a quarter of an hour."

She smiled. "Then you were early. Politicians are always exactly on time." He obviously didn't get the joke, because he started to argue. She cut him off sharply. "Never mind. What do you have for me?"

Trio grimaced. "Nothing."

"Excuse me?" Sese's eyes narrowed. "After all the time you've had, the access I've given you…and the money you've received, you've come up with _nothing_? I thought you were supposed to be competent."

"Give me a break," he snarled. "You're asking a lot, lady, and the areas you want me to break into are damn well secured. I'm getting there, but it takes time, okay?" He reached down into a little satchel and pulled out a sheaf of grubby papers. "Here; see for yourself. So far, everything I've checked is above the board."

She took the papers with a moue of disgust, glanced at the top sheet…and then blinked, and read it more carefully. How in hell had he managed to get _this_? Maybe the man really was competent. She started to leaf through the pages, her eyes widening occasionally. None of this was what she was looking for—but some of it, confidential reports from other divisions, would be useful in her regular job anyway.

"If you knew the amount of crap I've had to wade through," Trio continued in a sour voice. "And everything in legal jargon! Why can't you people write plain Japanese? The only remotely odd thing I've found so far is a weird purchase order, and I've no idea what _that_ means."

Sese looked up. "Purchase order?"

"Yeah, it's in there somewhere. It didn't make any sense, but I can't find anything that relates to it. Maybe somebody's going on an expensive holiday, and charging it to the government." He smirked, revealing bad teeth.

"A purchase order for what?" she asked patiently.

"Oh—" He took back the sheaf of papers, flicked through them rapidly, then pulled one out and passed it back to her. "Here."

She scanned the page, and her face creased into a puzzled frown. "Arctic exploration gear? Thermal clothing? Ordered from Alaskay…and delivered to the Council Chambers supply depot. You're right, that doesn't make any sense at all."

He shrugged.

"All right," she said. "Keep working. Let me know immediately if you find anything significant. Otherwise, I'll see you again in a week, yes?" He nodded and started to rise, but Sese was not finished. "And…find out what office ordered that thermal gear. And who collected it from the supply depot."

Trio gave her a dubious look. "You think it's important?"

"I have no idea," Sese replied, and smiled. "Let's find out."

* * *

Iku was back at school, Beth saw, and looking very wan and washed-out. Maybe she'd had the flu. She hovered in the background, as usual, doing and saying as little as possible. Really, what was wrong with the girl?

In the back of her mind, she had a vague idea that there was something that she'd been meaning to talk to Iku about, but she squelched the thought. Right now, she had other priorities.

She waited impatiently for a moment when Nanako and Eitoku were not around—probably off making out, somewhere private—and then pulled Iku aside. Iku started to stammer out something about being sorry, but Beth cut her off.

"Did you get a comm call from Makoto-san yesterday?" she demanded.

月

Iku listened to Beth in utter incomprehension. No, she had not gotten a comm call yesterday; she had not been in a position to receive calls. Not that she could ever say that…but Beth never even gave her the chance. As soon as Iku shook her head, Beth started ranting.

As she listened helplessly, Iku's confusion grew. Apparently Suzue was one of the Loonies; she believed that Queen Serenity was a goddess. For some reason, this bothered Beth.

Iku was aware of the Church of Serenity, of course; she was not deaf, and she spent much of her life listening to other people. She knew the Loonies were not popular. Iku knew what that was like.

For herself, she had no particular opinion. Let them believe what they wanted. After Saturday night, Iku could almost think they were right. Except that the Serenity who Iku had met was no golden paragon. In the end, she had been like all the rest.

Iku might have said as much to Beth, but she never got the chance. She had hardly finished her tirade when Nanako appeared in the background, and immediately Beth left off and started to pretend that nothing had happened. Iku could have told her that Nanako was not fooled for a moment, but she did not try. What would have been the point?

Senshi or not, Beth too was like all the others. Iku was still alone.

* * *

After school, Makoto stood on a street corner not far from Hibari. She could not help fidgeting as she waited. What she and the others were about to do…she had to admit that it was necessary. But it could go wrong, in so many ways. The way it had done with her, for example.

And yet, the consequences of doing nothing were…well, not worse, exactly. More tragic, perhaps.

She had only been waiting a couple of minutes when Ochiyo arrived. Makoto gave her a cautious nod. She had not forgotten that Ochiyo must have known about Suzue all along; but now, having cooled down from her explosion yesterday, she was not sure what to do about it. In the end, she took the coward's path and remained silent.

After a little, Ochiyo said, "Keenan Liam. I think I remember him from the Olympus. He usually comes in with another boy—Something Mark, is that right?"

Makoto paused at the mention of Mark, but then nodded. "Wright Mark. They're both Clavers; Liam-kun is from Eireland, Mark-kun from Alaskay. But I think Mark-kun was actually staying with Liam-kun's family for a while, in Eireland."

"That's right; I remember now. It was on their application forms, when they joined up." Ochiyo giggled suddenly. "Mostly I remember his accent."

Forgetting her caution for a moment, Makoto grinned back. "It's kind of unbelievable, isn't it? Remember, that's your father you're talking about."

"What, you think I ought to start talking like that too?"

They laughed…and the ice was broken, at least for now. They chatted idly as they waited, and Makoto almost managed to forget why they were here. Then, just as Ochiyo was saying, "You know, we really ought to talk about—", Makoto looked up and saw Seki coming toward them.

That brought a fresh scowl to her face. She and Seki had had quite an argument the night before, over Suzue and what Makoto had done. Nothing like as bad as that time in Amsterdam; but bad enough, all the same. She still did not understand Seki's attitude; Makoto would have expected the woman to have been breathing fire, but instead she almost seemed to be defending Suzue. When Makoto said as much, Seki got even angrier—but at Makoto, not the cultist. It was incomprehensible. They had ended the evening communicating in monosyllables, and this morning had not been much better.

Seki glanced at her as she arrived, and her eyes narrowed slightly; but otherwise her face remained perfectly composed. "Good afternoon," she said, addressing them both. "I take it there's no sign of Artemis yet?"

"No," replied Makoto, relieved. From the corner of her eye she saw Ochiyo shaking her head and mouthing the word "Artemis," and she remembered that the two had not yet met. She said, "Actually, when I called, he sounded kind of odd. I think he and Dhiti might have been figh—" She broke off suddenly. "Oh, _no_."

She stared, aghast, as she saw Artemis approaching from the opposite direction. It was not the sight of the cat that bothered her, though. It was the fact that, against all instructions, Dhiti was with him.

And so was Okamura Kin.

"Dhiti, what have you _done_?" she hissed as the three of them drew up.

Before Dhiti or Artemis could say a word, Kin stepped forward and stuck out a hand, western-style, to shake Makoto's own. Her face was perfectly straight, but there was a devilish glint in her eyes. "Hello," she said. "My name's Okamura Kin—and I believe you're Hiyama Makoto? It's so nice to meet you. Dhiti-chan's told me so much about you, it seems like I know you already."

Then, without waiting for an answer, she had moved on and was shaking Ochiyo's hand in turn.

Makoto rounded on Dhiti. In a low voice, she hissed, "Are you out of your _mind_?"

Dhiti did not flinch. "She has an interest in this," she said calmly. "You know it's true, Hayashi. And she can be trusted; you know that, too."

"She doesn't need to know who Ochiyo and Itsu—and Seki are!" Makoto hissed back. "And what the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"I haven't _told_ her who they are, and I'm not going to," Dhiti answered reasonably. "And if you think you can leave me out of—"

She broke off suddenly, and the two of them clearly heard Ochiyo say to Kin, "—Aizawa Ochiyo; it's nice to meet you. And I'm Sailor Moon, of course."

There was a short silence. Then Dhiti said, "Okay, I wasn't expecting that."

"Ochiyo-san, what are you _doing_?" Makoto blurted out. "She didn't need to know that!"

Kin gave her a hurt look that barely concealed a grin. Ochiyo, for her part, merely raised her eyebrows. "But doesn't she already know who you two are?" she said in a reasonable tone. "Why shouldn't she know about me, too?"

"Because—uh—"

"I can't be trusted," Kin said cheerfully. "Everybody knows it. I'm a compulsive blurter-out of secrets. _And_ I talk in my sleep."

Makoto groaned; but Ochiyo only laughed. Kin grinned back, and then turned to Seki. "Good morning," she said meaningfully. After a second, when Seki did not reply, she added, "And you are…?"

Seki raised one eyebrow. "No," she said. "I don't think so."

Ochiyo snickered, and Kin followed suit. The two of them exchanged glances, and then smiles.

Makoto looked down at Artemis and said, _sotto voce_, "Why on Earth did you let Dhiti bring her?"

"Did you ever manage to talk Dhiti out of anything, once she'd made up her mind?" he grumbled back. "Anyway, I—wasn't exactly there. I only met her a couple of minutes ago myself, and there wasn't much I could do about it by then."

"Oh?" Makoto cocked an eye at him. "You and Dhiti having problems?"

"We…argued, a couple of days ago. Haven't had a chance to talk about it yet."

"Yeah, well, don't wait too long. Trust me, I—"

Behind them, Seki clapped her hands sharply. "All right, everyone," she said, glancing around to check that everyone was paying attention. "Let's not just stand around all day calling attention to ourselves, hmm? Remember, we did come here for a reason."

Ochiyo, who had been chatting quietly with Kin, nodded. "Yes. Good." She gestured up at the nearby building and said, "So let's go up to his apartment and tell Kin-san's boyfriend—and my would-be suitor—that he's actually my father."

月

Liam lived on the third floor of the apartment building. As they trooped up the stairs, Dhiti noted the grimy, peeling paint-work and made a face. Apparently Liam couldn't afford anything better. At least the air smelt fresh, with no hint of…other things.

A minute later they stood outside a door halfway along a corridor lined with similar doors. Dhiti glanced at Makoto, who checked a paper in her hand and nodded, and then knocked sharply.

There was silence for a few seconds, except for the distant sound of a viddy. Then they heard footsteps. The door was flung open and Liam stood there. He wore nothing but a pair of white shorts and a string undershirt, and his expression was annoyed. "I told you already," he said angrily, "I don't want—"

He stopped suddenly. "Dhiti-san?" he said. "What—?" Then his gaze flicked to Dhiti's side, and his eyes widened. "Kin-san? What are you doing here? I thought you…And—and—who are all these people? And a _cat_?"

Dhiti offered him a toothy grin. "You think we can come in?" she asked. She couldn't help adding, "Nice shorts, by the way."

Liam did not seem to hear her. He was still staring, and now his eyes were even wider. "Miyo-san?" he whispered. "Is that you?"

Makoto sighed. "Can we come in, or can't we?" she said grumpily. "I don't want to stand in this corridor all afternoon."

He dithered for a moment longer, then stepped to one side. His face was pale. He shook his head repeatedly as they entered; but as Ochiyo stepped past him, his breath caught, and he lifted a hand to stop her.

"Who are you?" he asked, almost pleading. "I—I know you from somewhere. Where have I seen—" Then he broke off, suddenly confused. "Wait, you're…you're the reception girl from the gymnasium, aren't you? Why did I think—?" He rubbed his brow and muttered, "I must be going mad."

Ochiyo touched his arm. "Let's sit down," she said with a sympathetic smile, "and we'll explain everything."

Liam closed his eyes and opened them again, brushing a stray hair away from his face. "You're…not another dream, are you?" he said, almost in wonder. "I thought—yes, okay." He closed the door behind her and waited while she removed her shoes, then led her back into the living room.

He was resilient, Dhiti thought; he was already bouncing back. Surprised and confused, but in control of himself once more.

_Just wait 'til he hears what comes next,_ she thought smugly.

The sound of the viddy playing was much louder in the living room, but there was no sign of the viddy itself. Liam gestured helplessly toward the two chairs, then excused himself and ran into the next room, closing the door behind him. A second later, they heard the viddy click off.

Dhiti glanced around. The living room was not large, and felt rather full with them all there. It was, to her eye, a cosy mixture of neat and sloppy. Belongings were stacked around most of the walls in unruly piles, or on a single overloaded set of shelves. Everything was, however, scrupulously clean. There were only two chairs, both of them old and battered but comfortable-looking. Seki took one of these; and as Dhiti was still looking, Kin helped herself to the other one with a smirk. Dhiti chuckled and found a clear spot to sit on the floor, and after a moment the rest of them followed suit.

Liam returned a second later, this time wearing a shirt and pants. His expression was odd; for a moment, there was something almost shifty about it. He glanced around the room, pausing for a moment each as his eyes passed over Kin, Makoto and Ochiyo. Then he leaned back against the wall, feigning a nonchalant pose that did nothing to disguise his tension, and said, "So. What would all this be about, now?"

Seki lifted her head and gazed at him for a few seconds. Her lips quirked in a faint smile. "Keenan-san," she said softly, "would you please tell us about your weekend?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "My _weekend_?" he repeated. "What, are you crazy? Who are you?"

"My name is Hiyama Seki," she said. "We've met…though you may not remember it. Please, Keenan-san. Tell us."

Liam shook his head, and then shrugged. "Okay! Whatever! If it makes you happy. It was nothing special, all right? I mean, there was school on Saturday morning, and I bummed around all afternoon. Went to a movie. Had a quiet day yesterday; did some laundry, watched the viddy. Finished my homework. And that's all. I trust it meets your satisfaction, ma'am?" he finished in a sarcastic tone.

Seki only nodded, as if satisfied. "And on Saturday night," she said, "…did you dream?"

It was fascinating to watch, Dhiti thought. At first his expression showed only polite incomprehension. Then, slowly, the colour drained from his face, and he sagged back against the wall. He stared at Seki in something like awe…or horror.

"Yes, I dreamed," he said slowly. "But it was the craziest thing. Crazy mad! I dreamed that I was…fighting giants, to save a magic princess. Kids' stuff, see? Only, the princess was fighting, too—and somehow I knew that was right. And…" His voice sank until it was almost a whisper, and his eyes grew haunted. "And there was a goddess who told us what we had to do, and when I saw her I thought my heart would burst…"

He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed, and rubbed his forehead. "Okay, it was pretty stupid," he said defensively, scowling around at them all. But then, almost inaudible once more, Dhiti heard him add: "But it was so _real_…"

Lifting his head defiantly, he stared at Seki. "Well, and is that what you wanted?" he demanded.

Seki did not answer at once. Her eyes, Dhiti suddenly realised, were on Artemis. During Liam's recitation, he had wandered across the room to sniff delicately at the boy's leg. Now, he looked back at Seki and gave a single nod.

"Yes," Seki said, meeting Liam's eyes once more, "I'm afraid it is."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And what's that supposed to mean, now?"

She stood and approached him. Despite their age difference, he was still a good deal taller than her. "It means that we are not who you think we are, Keenan-san," she said. "And neither are you."

He raised his eyebrows; but before he could speak, she went on. "My name is Hiyama Seki, I told you; and this," she gestured toward Makoto, "is my daughter, Hiyama Makoto." Again he started to speak, but she drove on over his protest. "But just a few days ago, her name was Hayashi Miyo, and I was Pappadopoulos Itsuko…and long, long before that, we had other names yet. Hers was Kino Makoto, Keenan-san, and mine was Hino Rei."

Liam made an incoherent sound.

"And yours," Seki said, very deliberately, "was Chiba Mamoru."

He stared at her. His mouth opened, and then closed again without a sound. He swallowed hard, once.

"You're mad," he breathed.

"No," Seki said.

"No," echoed Makoto.

And Artemis repeated, "No."

Perhaps Liam was becoming desensitised to shock. He jumped and stared, but not as much as he might have. He looked down at the cat and shook his head—but after a moment, a curious, faraway expression came into his eyes and he said, almost as a question, "Artemis…?"

Seki pursed her lips. "You're already half-remembering, aren't you? We should have come sooner, but I thought it was best for you to live a normal life for as long as you could. Now…I think I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Liam said, "This is all crazy."

She shook her head. "You are surrounded by Sailor Senshi, Keenan-san. Makoto, or Miyo, is Sailor Jupiter. Dhiti-san is Sailor Mercury. I was once Sailor Mars. And Ochiyo-san is Sailor Moon." She paused, then added, "And it is time for you to join us."

"Join—?" Liam began. Then he paused, and licked his lips nervously. "Uh—what are you saying?"

Seki made to answer him, but Ochiyo stood and touched her arm. "We've come to awaken your past memories, Liam-kun," the girl said. "Don't worry; it won't hurt." She hesitated, and glanced at Makoto. "Er, will it?"

Makoto snorted. "It didn't hurt _me_," she said. "Just be careful this time, okay, Artemis? We don't need him messed up the way I was."

"Now, wait just a minute," said Liam, his eyes widening.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" the cat said in a peevish tone. "Look, I know what I did wrong before. I think."

"You could just stick your finger in a power socket now and get it over with," suggested Dhiti to Liam.

Seki rolled her eyes. "Now, please, Artemis," she said.

"But—" Liam said; but he got no further. He stiffened as a thin, almost blinding beam of light leaped from the crescent moon on Artemis' forehead, striking him squarely between the eyes. It rocked him back, as if by a physical impact. His body seemed to hang against the wall, limbs splayed out, for a second. He let out a groan of horror.

"REMEMBER," the cat ordered.

Then the beam winked out, and Liam fell in a boneless heap to the floor. With a cry of dismay, Kin leaped from her chair and rushed to his side; and Dhiti, watching, realised with astonished delight that whatever she said, the girl really did still care for him.

Moments later, Liam began to stir once more, and Kin was joined by all the others. Dhiti peered down at the boy as his eyes opened. He did not look any different. He simply stared up at them blankly for some time.

Then his face crumpled. In a thin, high voice, he said, "No…!" And then he wrapped his arms around his head as his whole body began to shake with his silent sobbing.

月

It was like emerging from a tunnel into blazing sunlight. At first there was nothing but darkness and confusion. Then, in a flash, the pitiless light burst in upon him, and he could do nothing but close his eyes against the pain.

Gone. She was gone. How did he know it; how could he? But he did. He remembered, with crystal clarity, the moment two nights before when he had seen the glowing, golden figure appear before Sailor Moon and himself, advising them on the battle to come. He had not understood it then, the burst of heart-rending grief he had felt at the sight of her; but now he knew. With that curious insight that had always been his gift, he saw it: that the two of them who should have been together for always, were now parted by the final gulf. An image of her might yet remain; but only an image. She had gone on, leaving him to live again…without her. And, now as then, he thought his heart would burst.

Lost, all of it. Centuries of time and a whole, brilliant world. And her: most precious; lover, beloved wife, companion of a thousand years; mother of his daughter; heart of his heart and soul of his soul. Lost, lost, lost.

A little later, when he was in control of himself once more, he opened his eyes and let them help him into a seat. Surrounded by girls again! It seemed to be his destiny. But this time, the most important one was missing.

He looked around at them all through reddened eyes: the faces of old friends, Rei and Makoto, familiar even behind their disguises, and the others. He looked at Rei; in a voice that was slightly hoarse, he said, "You are cruel."

She flinched, just barely. Her voice flat, she said, "When I have to be."

"You should have let me be."

Artemis said, "I wanted to."

As he reached down, almost unconsciously, to rub the cat's head, Rei—no, wait, she had said _Seki_; he would have to ask about that—nodded and said, "So did I. But, Endymion, we had little choice. You were already involving yourself. You were appearing as Tuxedo Kamen again, coming to protect Sailor Moon."

"My dreams," he said softly. "I have been having such strange dreams. I was a cat burglar, once, and a secret agent. Perhaps—" Suddenly his eyes sharpened, and he looked around the girls once more. "Wait. You said, protect Sailor Moon. Who is—?" Then he remembered. "You. The girl from the gymnasium? I'm sorry, I don't remember your name…"

"Aizawa Ochiyo," the girl said. There was something hauntingly familiar about her. It was all mixed up, all blurred together; his dreams, the face behind the reception desk at the gymnasium—and, somehow, his memories of Usagi and Serenity. But why?

"Who are you?" he whispered, half-unconsciously. He stood and went over to stand before her, searching her face. The years fell away as he moved; it was King Endymion who acted now. He reached down a hand to cup her chin, tilting her head up gently so that he could look in her eyes.

"Um," she said. There was a strength in her, he could see, a decisiveness, but for an instant it had deserted her and she looked very vulnerable. Then it returned; her eyes flashed, and she lifted her own hand to strike his away. "Look, buster, I don't care if you are my—"

"I know you," he murmured. "Now, where do I know you from?" He could almost see it; it was right on the tip of his tongue. Not Usagi; not Serenity, the way she had been in his dreams. Not Small Lady, either. Then who? And then he had it, and his eyes widened. "Hikari…"

"No!" Ochiyo rose and stepped back, a little too hastily, leaving a deliberate gap between them. "That's what _she_ said, too, but get it straight, buster. I don't care who you might have been in another lifetime. I already have two parents, and I'm not looking for more. Clear?"

He raised his eyebrows. "As crystal," he said, careful to keep the amusement from his voice. He could hear the determination in her words, see it in her face and the set of her body; but none of it mattered. Hikari, by all that was wonderful! Against all probabilities, his second daughter, alive and well, standing before him. The fates were merciful—

And then, in a flash, it deserted him. The spirit of the dead king receded; his poise left him, and he was only Keenan Liam once more, facing a girl his age whom he barely knew from a gymnasium. Oh, the memories were still there, to be sure; Endymion was still within him. But now his modern life took the fore, and suddenly he hardly knew what to say.

A moment later, and he remembered what he had done to her the last time he saw her. He felt his cheeks burn, and knew that he was in trouble.

Someone else solved his problem for him. "Besides," said Dhiti with a familiar smirk, "I think you've got someone else to worry about right now."

"Eh?" Privately, Liam sometimes thought that Dhiti had been born to try the souls of humankind. He hadn't been on the receiving end of her attention very often, thank goodness, but he'd seen how effortlessly she could drive Mark and Miyo up the wall. "What are you talking ab—"

Then he saw, again, the golden girl standing at her side, and finally realised just how _much_ trouble he was in.

"Kin-san," he said faintly.

"Uh-huh." She stepped forward, gazing up at him with an appraising eye. "So," she said in a lazy drawl, "what have we got? Transfer student with bad hair, check. That's not so bad. Crazy Eirish Claver transfer student…hell, I'm broad-minded. I can cope. Crazy Eirish transfer student who picks romantic moments to whisper in my ear about _other girls_—now, that's starting to push the boundaries, you know?" With a wry smile, she shook her head. "But crazy transfer student who actually turns out to be a legendary king reborn…" She buffed her fingernails on her shirt and examined them thoughtfully. "Well, I just don't know. A girl's got to have some standards, don't you think?"

Liam looked back at her with a mixture of apprehension and regret. The sheer impossibility of this situation—of any question that they could ever be together again—was so overwhelming that it was hard to see anything else. Once he had had perfection, and he wanted nothing more. He had been the consort of Queen Serenity, husband and father of her daughter; there was no question that their love was destined, and the idea of replacing that magical harmony of souls with this girl was unthinkable. He and Serenity had been together for centuries, and their love and passion had only grown; and even now, even muted by death and rebirth and the memory of a lifetime since, the pain and the recollection of what he had lost threatened to send him to his knees, sobbing in grief, all over again.

And yet. He could not help but flinch when Kin mentioned what he had whispered in her ear that night. He had blocked it out at the time, but now it was embarrassingly clear in his memory. And so, too, was the feeling of her body in his arms, and her lips on his.

She must have seen his indecision. Abandoning the casual pose, she said, "Maybe we need to talk about this. Uh, some other time."

"Kin-san," he said, "you have to realise that there's no way we—"

She held up a finger to his lips, and gave him a curiously knowing look. "No," she said. "Later."

He stared at her, his lips still buzzing from the contact, and tried to think of something to say. She gave him a quick nod, then glanced around the room at all the others and nodded again. "It was…interesting, meeting you all," she said succinctly. "We must do this again sometime." Then, walking casually to the door, she let herself out. Her footsteps faded away down the corridor.

Liam watched the door close behind her back with an unexpected feeling of loss. Almost, he wanted to go after her; but that was crazy. He was not in love with her; he loved his wife. His _wife_.

His dead wife.

He rubbed his forehead wearily. "Oh, boy," he said.

Her lips quirking, Seki said, "I can recommend a good counselling service."

He gave her a pained look. "You've gotten very sarcastic over the years, did you know?"

She grinned back, and belatedly he remembered that he had dated her, too, once upon a time. Not for long, true, and things never went too far between them; but still, he was fairly sure that he had been her first kiss. Looking at her now, he could see that she was remembering it as well. That was…embarrassing.

"This is all getting too complicated," he murmured, shaking his head. "Rei-san, Makoto-san…Ochiyo-san." He looked over at her, and saw that his daughter was hiding a grin. Maybe that wasn't going to be so bad after all. "And—Dhiti-san, why are you here again?"

Dhiti positively preened. "What, don't you know the big, bad Sailor Mercury when you see her?"

Liam glared at her. "No _way_ are you Mizuno Ami."

"Aha! I'm the new, improved ver—"

Seki cut in before Dhiti could finish. "Ami-chan is dead, Liam-san," she said, her voice flat. "Most of them are. Serenity tried to send you all forward again, but—" In a few words, she explained the situation. After she was done, a silence fell.

"So," he said at last.

Makoto nodded. "So."

He felt a burst of sorrow for the fallen: Ami and Minako; Haruka; Michiru; and the gentle Hotaru gone before them. But that tragedy was soon overshadowed by his own, more personal loss. Small Lady, and Serenity. She had sent him on to live again, but had been unable to follow. He was truly alone, then. He closed his eyes, and once more the grey bitterness threatened to overwhelm him—until he felt a hand touch his arm.

"Come here for a moment," Ochiyo said.

Obediently, still feeling numb, he followed her to the window. "Well?" he demanded.

"Look out," she said quietly.

He did so. Outside, the sun baked down on the rooftops of Third Tokyo. The sky was a clear, aching blue, with only a distant bank of cloud on the horizon. Far off in the distance, an aeroplane crawled southward. Below, traffic rumbled softly by, and the streets were filled with people.

It took him a minute to get the message. Too long; once, he would have been the one delivering it himself. Now, slowly, he nodded. "The sun is shining," he said.

"Yes," Ochiyo replied. "It's not all darkness, Liam-san. There's still light, and hope. Every day."

He nodded again; but, looking down at her, he saw another message in her face: one she had probably not intended. Small Lady might be dead; Serenity might be gone…but he had a second daughter, one who faced a dreadful enemy.

More than ever, she needed help. She needed protection. Whether she knew it or not, she needed Tuxedo Kamen.

Liam smiled at her, and said gravely, "Point taken."

"Hey, Endy-kun," Dhiti carolled out from behind them. "Did you notice that your accent's disappeared?"

月

Things became a little chaotic, after that, as they often did when Dhiti was around. Before it went too far, Seki stepped in. She could see in his eyes how close Liam was to overloading. As Mamoru, he'd always been the brooding, solitary type, and she did not think that had changed.

"We ought to go," she said. "I think you could use some time to adjust, right?"

Liam gave her a quick, grateful look. "Well, I do have some homework to finish," he said with a half-smile.

She chuckled. "Well, then. Makoto was talking about a Senshi meeting tomorrow evening, to discuss plans, and I think it's a good idea." She could not help shooting a dark look at Makoto as she spoke. There were other things they needed to discuss as well. But then she pulled her attention back to the here and now. "If you want to come, you'd be welcome."

He hesitated for some time before saying, "Sure. You'll have to tell me where."

"Of course." She gave him directions to her house. "Eight o'clock tomorrow, if that's okay."

"I'll be there." He smiled, but she thought that it was not without effort. "In the meantime, if you don't mind…"

They all rose to go. Seki held back to let the girls leave first, but paused at the door. Once the others were out of sight, she said quietly to Liam, "I have a message for you."

He did not flinch. He only said, just as quietly, "From…her?"

"Yes. She asked me to tell you that she loved you. And that you will be together again, in the end. She'll wait." He nodded, but Seki was not finished. "In the meantime…she said that you should move on."

Liam was silent for a long time. His face might have been carved from stone. At last he said, "She must know how impossible that is."

Seki gave him a wry smile. "I didn't like it any better when she said it to me." She paused, and then said, "Don't be afraid to live again, that was what she told me. I think she meant it for you, too. You don't have to spend your life alone. The two of you will not be apart forever."

He did not answer, and at last she turned to leave. She heard the door click shut behind her.

月

Liam stood in the centre of the living room, his mind in turmoil. He listened to Rei's footsteps fade away. When he was sure she was gone, he said aloud, "All right."

The bedroom door opened and Mark came out. He stared at Liam as if looking at a stranger.

Liam found himself starting to grin. "So," he said.

"That…that wasn't real, right? This is some kind of put-up job."

"Nope. Sorry."

"And you really didn't know? And…and Miyo-san. Oh, God. She's _Sailor Jupiter_?"

"Shouldn't have listened in," said Liam unsympathetically.

"Oh, come on! What was I supposed to do? You were the one who told me to just keep quiet! If she knew I was there, she'd just leave, you said, but at least this way, maybe I'd have a chance to find something out."

"Yes." Liam gave a rueful chuckle. "Well, that part certainly worked."

"Oh, God," Mark repeated. "They really didn't know I live here too?" Liam shook his head. "And you're…holy shit. You…didn't know anything about it?"

"Not a clue." Liam hesitated. "Well—maybe a clue. I'd been having the strangest dreams, lately…"

"I'm sitting here with King Endymion, and you're complaining about weird _dreams_? Damn!" Mark fell silent, shaking his head. After a little he asked, "Are…we still friends?"

"Depends," said Liam. "You wanna be a royal retainer?"

"Up your ass!"

Liam laughed out loud. "I don't think it's going to be a problem. If they were willing to tell Kin-chan, I don't see how they can object to you."

"Uh," said Mark. "You're going to tell them I know?"

"You'd rather I didn't?" Liam paused. "To be honest, I don't think it'll make any difference with Miyo-san. You have to understand: even apart from what happened with her family…she had a rough time with boyfriends, back in Crystal Tokyo. Got married a bunch of times, and none of them lasted; none of them could cope with who she was. In the end—I won't say she gave up, because she never did; but she…"

As he spoke, his words had been coming slower and slower. Now he broke off, frowning, and then suddenly threw up his hands and laughed. "Hell, who am I kidding? What do I know? Maybe you're exactly what she needs. Go for it, man. If you'd rather, I won't say a word."

"Okay. Yeah. Thanks." Mark collapsed back into the other chair, looked up at Liam, and said, "Damn it! You _do_ look like the old pictures. And so does she. Why didn't I ever notice before?"

Liam chuckled. "They do it with mirrors."

"Up yours. You're going to be hell to live with now, aren't you?" Mark scowled at him. Then his expression changed. "Hey—so you used to be married to Queen Serenity."

The levity vanished from Liam's voice. "Drop it, Mark."

"And now you've got Kin-san chasing you."

"I mean it, man. Drop it, now."

"Okay, okay. Only—"

Liam groaned. "_What_?"

Mark gave him a rather suggestive smirk. "Any pointers?"

Liam threw a cushion at him.

* * *

Wednesday morning found Chairman Fukuda sitting at his desk, working patiently. Outside, it was raining heavily: fallout from a typhoon passing to the east. The main storm had missed Japan this time, though there would be others. August and September, just around the corner, were the peak months. For now, typhoon number three was giving them a brisk wind and a downpour, but nothing more.

The chairman finished reading a report from 'F' Division and paused, thinking over the ramifications. The financial markets had dropped when the Senshi had first appeared, amid general uncertainty over whether the girls were about to depose the government. Thankfully, things seemed to have stabilised once more now, and the yen had regained some of its value. The message from the Senshi, disavowing any political intentions and signed with an imprint of Sailor Mars' henshin wand, had helped. So had a carefully worded notice from the Council, pointing out that only Sailor Moon herself had a technical right to the throne.

The chairman wondered what would happen when it became publicly known that Moon had finally appeared. Fresh chaos, probably. 'F' and 'D' Divisions would have their hands full. And now that the Senshi knew that the Council was their enemy, might Moon make the attempt after all?

He gave a dry chuckle. _Interesting times._ Then he moved on to the next report.

This one was from 'S' Division, with a covering note from Number Three: a summary of the debriefing of Captain Hiiro's team after the events of Saturday night. The chairman read it, and frowned. The report was…wrong, in almost every detail. It said that the team had arrived to find a battle between Senshi and vitrimorphs in progress (though it did not use that word, of course), and had opted to back away. Their commander, Colonel Shiro, concurred with the decision.

But that was not what had happened. Number Twelve had seen the entire affair through the eyes of the vitrimorphs. Hiiro's team had already been there when the vitrimorphs arrived, and they had _helped_ the Senshi. So what was going on here?

The obvious answer was that Hiiro had turned, or been turned. He had thrown in with the girls. It would even explain why they had attacked 'M' Division later that night.

The chairman huffed, and typed a brief note to Number Three. (He could not easily hold a pen to write.) Three would know how to handle it; he had had plenty of experience with Sankaku moles. There'd be nothing overt, of course. They would simply keep a close watch on the team, and be…careful…when they used them in future. It was always useful to know who your double agents were.

Shaking his head, he turned to the next report, Hiiro and his team already forgotten. A notice from 'P' Division: Egami Shosuke was dead. Well, he knew all about _that_. Skipping the details with a grimace, he tapped in an acknowledgement and moved on once more.

Next. A memo from the technical recovery team at 'M' Division. They had restored the frozen computer systems at last. Ah, that was more like it!

Again, he skipped over the technical details, looking for the important information. The first attempt to restore from backup had inexplicably erased the backup itself—hmm. He chuckled at that; it was a worthy touch on M's part. The most recent usable full backup was more than a week old. And an analysis of Egami Shosuke's most recent project records showed—

He cursed. The records were very incomplete. From the look of it, most of the theory had never been written down; it had been in Egami's head.

The chairman sat for a few minutes, thinking. What he was about to do next would put him forever beyond the pale, if anybody found out about it. The Master and the Senshi; both sides would want his head. But—

Tightening his lips, he typed quickly. Orders: a crash-priority redevelopment of the project, maximum urgency, maximum security; results _not_ to be reported to himself, but to his second. The chairman did not dare learn when, or if, this project showed results. Not when his own mind was not sacred.

He hesitated one last time, his finger poised over the 'send' key; and then, with a faint smile, he pressed it. So; for good or for ill, it was done. It was a heady business, this, throwing his life to the winds.

Then he waited. For what, he was not sure: perhaps for the Master's presence and cold, bitter cruelty to fill his mind, or for Twelve to appear, with that savage, merciless smile, full of teeth.

But nothing happened. The low, droning rumble of the air conditioning and the faint bubbling of the water heating for his teapot were the only sound in the office. After a while he began to dare think that, at least for now, he had gotten away with it.

But not forever. There would be a reckoning eventually, he knew. He thought again of Number Twelve, and shuddered. Maybe she would make it quick.

And again, his imagination provided too many details. What if she didn't make it quick? What if she did to him what he had done to her? A second-stage initiation, a permanent, irrevocable tying to the Master. To have your whole will, your whole _mind_, forever slaved to such monstrousness. What must that be like for her?

Hell was what he thought it would be like; and, just for a moment, he felt sympathy for Araki Mamiko, the woman within Number Twelve. Was she still alive, buried somewhere in there? Was she screaming silently, endlessly, locked inside her own mind? Never sleeping; never _eating_; just the cold, eternal presence of the Master, clouding everything else out of her, forever?

He had done that to her, after she panicked and tried to kill the Senshi against orders. Not the Master; it had been _his_ decision. He had not known exactly what it would do to her, but he had known that it would be bad. If he had not done it, the Master would have forced him to punish her, but perhaps it would have been some other way.

_Maybe I'm evil after all. Maybe I really am evil._ An old, bitter thought.

It crossed his mind, not for the first time, that he could follow Hiiro's example and throw in with the girls. _Who knows? They might even be able to protect me,_ he thought with mordant humour. The idea was almost tempting, in a puerile sort of way; but it stuck in his craw. To cast his destiny with a bunch of super-powered, short-skirted teenagers in archaic costumes? It was worse than ridiculous; it was undignified.

For a moment, he thought back to a time years ago, before he had first been elevated to the Serenity Council. Back when he had been nothing more than a hard-working bureaucrat who had never heard of the Master and never dreamed of what lay below the surface of the world.

_Give me those days again! A world with no Master __or_ Senshi. A simple world, where we can make our own destiny…

It was a dream; but at least he still _could_ dream. And if they could get Egami's weapon working again, then maybe, just maybe, it could really come true.

In the meantime, there was work to be done. Deception, lies and politics, and a country to run. For a little while longer—until, one way or another, his time ran out.

* * *

On the surface, Wednesday passed like any other school day. There was a suppressed air of excitement, of course, at the approaching holidays. Beneath the surface, though, there were some ominous undercurrents. Ochiyo watched them with interest, but she did nothing to interfere. Not yet.

The most obvious current had to do with Suzue. Ochiyo only shared a couple of classes with her, but the change in attitude had become clear since Monday. Oh, nobody said anything; but still, the other students were subtly avoiding her. Even Keiko, who was supposed to be her friend; and Suzue's expression made it clear that she was aware of it.

All of it thanks to Kubota and Arita and their mob…and Makoto. The other students had known about Suzue before, but Suzue had never actually _done_ anything, so it was easy to ignore or forget. Now her religion was staring them in the face, and they reacted the way they always did.

The way they had been taught to react. Ochiyo was starting to see that now, since Otani-sensei had pointed it out.

Having Makoto in the same Home Ec class did not help at all. The other students might keep their snubs low-key, but there was nothing subtle about Makoto. She was the second dark undercurrent. That automatic scowl whenever she looked in Suzue's direction was hard to miss. It was a kind of blindness, in its way.

Ochiyo considered the situation. She had wanted to avoid stepping in between the two of them: not that she was afraid of being stamped with the Loonie brand herself, but simply because she'd hoped that they could patch things up on their own. But it seemed that they weren't even trying. Failing that, she had planned to take the matter up at the Senshi meeting tonight. But seeing them now…

In a moment, she made up her mind. "Excuse me," she said to Jong Soo, her class partner. Then she walked calmly across the room to where Suzue stood all alone.

Suzue raised her eyebrows as she approached. "Careful," she said in a low voice. "You don't want to get caught in this too."

Ochiyo smiled. "It's okay," she replied. "Just take it easy, hmm? Remember, they aren't all out to get you."

"Oh?" Suzue's lips tightened. "Sure looks that way sometimes."

"No," Ochiyo said firmly. "Actually, they're afraid that _you're_ out to get _them_."

Suzue blinked, and then frowned as she thought about it. After a little she said, "Thank you, Ochiyo-san. That helps."

"Sure. See you later, okay?"

Ochiyo winked at her, then turned to walk back to her own table. Jong Soo was watching her, and she could feel the gazes of the rest of the class following her as well. She gave them all a big smile. She might regret it later; but for now, their stares felt like an accolade.

月

After school, she hurried to the Olympus. She was rostered on duty for three hours today, during one of the busiest periods; and after that she had another appointment. It promised to be another long evening.

She changed hastily into her work uniform, then signed in and took over the reception desk from Norie. After that she was kept busy for the next hour or so, taking phone calls, answering questions and giving advice. Word had started to get around that something had happened to the owner, and nearly half the calls she took were anxious queries or outright gossip.

Half an hour into her shift, she looked up and saw a face she vaguely recognised. After a second she placed him: Wright Mark. Normally, he came in with Keenan Liam, but today he was alone.

Not that that meant anything. She gave him a warm smile of welcome, expecting him to wave back and head through to get changed as usual. Instead he hesitated, giving her a rather peculiar look in return. Finally, just as she was about to ask him if anything was wrong, he gave her a rather strained grin, and then moved on at almost a run. Ochiyo stared after him, baffled, for a moment. Then the desk comm rang, and she shook her head and got back to work.

By half past six, things had quietened down considerably. Marisa showed up early, which was a help, and Ochiyo took the chance to sneak back to the changing rooms and change out of her uniform. As she came out, she almost ran headfirst into someone else coming in. To her dismay, she saw that it was Yukimi.

"Sorry," she said hastily.

Yukimi looked down at her with a gimlet eye. "Well, Miss Part-Timer," she said in an acid tone. She glanced up at the clock. "Booking out early?"

Ochiyo hid a grimace of annoyance. The trainer was not exactly the bane of her life, but she might well be the bane of the Olympus staff. Tall, well-padded and elegant, she was also waspish and arrogant. Mito was the only one who could really stand her, and even he tried to do it from a distance.

"No, I was just—" Ochiyo began.

Yukimi rolled on without paying the slightest attention. "You might as well. Why not? Who cares if you're defrauding your employer? It's not as if anyone's going to dock your pay. It's not as if you've got any pay to dock."

"I—" Ochiyo broke off. She had been about to protest that the front desk was covered, and she had every intention of staying until her shift ended. Instead she said, "What?"

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" Yukimi gave her a withering smile. "Nobody got paid last night. All that money, mysteriously missing." She sniffed. "I suppose now we know what happened to our exalted absentee leader. Run off to the Virgin Nation, perhaps. That would suit _her_, I'm sure."

Ochiyo could only stare at her, shocked not just at the news but at the open malice in the woman's voice. "No," she protested. "It's not like that!"

"Oh?" Yukimi laughed at her. "Go ahead and hide from the truth, then, Miss Part-Timer. Personally, I've got bills to pay. I'll give her a week to show her crooked face again. After that, I'm gone!"

Ochiyo stared at her for a moment longer. Then, her lips tightening, she pushed past the woman and out the door. She heard Yukimi's mocking laughter following her.

_Good riddance if she does go,_ she thought furiously. But the anger did not last. Dismayed, she realised that Yukimi was right. Nobody was going to stay for long if they were not being paid.

Without Itsuko, the Olympus was doomed.

月

Half an hour later, still wrestling with the problem, Ochiyo left the building and caught a bus over to the Hissomori district. Her destination was only a few hundred metres from the bus stop, but she had to check a map twice. At last she came to a halt in a narrow, tree-lined lane, outside an old-fashioned brick house.

She stood for a moment, eyeing it dubiously, and checked her map once more. When she looked up again, she saw a large black bird perched on the roof, looking down at her out of one unfathomable eye. She gave it a curious look in return, then opened the gate and went through. As she stepped over the threshold, the bird gave a harsh cry and took to the air, flying out of sight behind the house. Ochiyo paused, watching it for a second, and then closed the gate behind her, walked to the door and gave a sharp knock.

The door opened almost instantly and Makoto stood there, a smile on her face. "Hi," she said. "Come in. The others are already here."

Ochiyo smiled back; but inside, her alarm bells were ringing. There was something wrong about Makoto's smile, something false. The girl's body was too tense, and her eyes kept meeting Ochiyo's and then flicking away almost guiltily. She was nervous. Why?

Thinking about it for a moment, Ochiyo decided that she had a pretty good idea of what was coming. Her own worries about the Olympus disappeared, replaced by new concerns. She suppressed a grimace. This was probably going to be messy.

"You don't have to do it, you know," she said impulsively. "You can let it go. There's still time."

Makoto stiffened. After a pause that was just a little too long, she said, "What do you mean, Ochiyo-san?"

Ochiyo paused herself, and let out a breath. "Nothing," she said, looking away. "Sorry. My mistake."

Makoto stared at her for a moment longer, her eyes no longer precisely friendly, and then stepped aside to let Ochiyo in. Ochiyo left her schoolbag with her shoes in a corner of the entryway, and then followed Makoto to the living room. She paused at the door. Yes, nearly everyone was there: Seki, Beth, Iku and Dhiti; and in their midst, looking quite uncomfortable, Liam. Most of them were sitting on the floor, but Dhiti was lounging on, of all things, a bean-bag chair. She was happily chattering away at full speed to Beth and Iku, her eyes alight with mischief. Beth answered back when she could get a word in edgewise, but Iku simply listened, a strange, almost wondering look on her face.

Liam and Seki were talking quietly as well, though Liam kept shooting half-humorous, half-resigned glances over at the girls. Ochiyo wondered if he felt as out-of-place as he looked, and concealed a grin. Somehow, his obvious discomfort made up for the stolen kiss of Saturday night.

As she stepped inside, most of them looked up at her, and the room fell quiet. For a giddy moment, Ochiyo wondered if she was expected to make a speech. Then Seki rose and said, "Princess, welcome." She was smiling, thankfully; a real smile. "Let me introduce you to Artemis and Bendis."

Ah. Ochiyo had already met Artemis, the day before, but had not really gotten a chance to talk to him; and Bendis was still only a name to her. She had almost missed the two on entering, but there they were: Artemis, pure white with a gold crescent on his forehead, and Bendis, very young-looking, a tabby cat with a white circle on hers. _Full moon,_ Ochiyo thought, and the idea pleased her for some reason. She had an aunt who bred cats, and thought absently that Artemis looked rather like an Egyptian Mau: a rare breed of cat. Bendis was similar, though obviously a mix.

The two stepped delicately forward as Seki introduced them and dipped their heads, to Ochiyo's discomfiture. She started to bow in return, but then Bendis looked up at her, fixed her with a piercing eye, and said, "So _you're_ the princess? Huh. I thought you'd be taller."

"Bendis!" Artemis swiped at her head with his paw, but she dodged nimbly.

Ochiyo, for her part, merely raised her eyebrows and said in a grave tone, "Really? Funny, I get that from Moon Cats a lot."

Bendis stared at her—and then laughed. Ochiyo joined in. Artemis retreated, grumbling; but Ochiyo noticed that the look he directed at Bendis was more affectionate than angry. One of those males who tried to hide how much he cared, she guessed, amused.

She looked around for a place to sit, but before she had found a spot, Makoto cleared her throat to attract everyone's attention. "Maybe we should get started," she said.

Ochiyo glanced around the room, and—as she had half expected—noticed who was missing. _Uh-__huh_, she thought. So that was how it was going to be, was it?

She was not the only one to spot the omission. "Wait up, Hayashi," said Dhiti cheerfully. "Suzue-san isn't here yet."

Makoto's lips tightened. "No," she said. "Suzue-san isn't going to be coming tonight."

"Is that so?" murmured Ochiyo. Makoto must have heard her; she threw her a sharp look.

"And why not?" asked Liam innocently. "Sick, is she?"

"No," Makoto said grimly. "I didn't invite her…because she's the one we're here to talk about."

That brought a pause to the proceedings. Then Dhiti said, in a voice filled with dismay, "Oh, Hayashi, _no_."

Makoto glared at her. "Yes, of course," she said. "Be serious for once, Dhiti-chan. She's betrayed us all. She's a…a snake in the grass, and we have to deal with her somehow!"

Liam cleared his throat again. "Pardon my ignorance," he said. "What, exactly, are we talking about?"

In a few bitter words, Makoto told him about Suzue. His eyes widened as he listened, and he let out a low whistle. Then, as she finished, his eyes narrowed once more. "I see," he said, and Ochiyo noticed that once more, his accent had faded away. "You've called us to sit in judgement. Without her even being here to defend herself. We're your Star Chamber, is that it?"

"Defend herself?" said Makoto incredulously. "She admitted it to my face! What kind of defence do you think she needs?"

"None," said Beth in a low voice. Her face was pale and drawn, as if at some unpleasant memory. She shivered suddenly. "Why are we even talking about this? If she's one of—of those…"

"Is it really all that bad?" piped up Bendis from by her side. "I mean, okay, it's kind of weird, but—"

Beth rounded on her. "Yes!" she said furiously. "It's that bad. You—you weren't there, Bendis-chan. But I remember that night. What that man did…" She shivered again, and Ochiyo wondered what had happened to her, and when.

"I was right over your head, and I saw the whole thing," Bendis mumbled, her voice barely audible. "And I know it freaked you out, but—"

"Beth is right," put in Artemis, paying no attention to her. "It's bad. If nothing else, it's bad enough that she tried to hide it from us. But still…" He looked up at Makoto. "I'm a little disturbed that she's not even here. Liam has a point—"

"You're _siding_ with her?" Makoto burst out, outraged.

"No. I'm saying that if she's…well, to be put on trial, she should be here to defend herself. If she can."

"So, suddenly she's to be _tried_?" said Ochiyo softly. "For her beliefs? By _us_?"

Makoto gave her a sour, disgusted look. "And who are you to complain? You've known about her all along, and you never did a thing. That makes you nearly as bad as she is!"

"Ah? I've had such a long time to do anything, of course. Let's see, half a week?" Ochiyo smiled at her, lips slightly parted to show her teeth. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll let me know if you decide to put me on trial for it."

Makoto snorted. "Don't be so—"

"Anyway," Ochiyo interrupted, "I did do something, as a matter of fact. I talked to Suzue-san about it. I wonder if you ever thought to try that?"

"Of course I did!" Makoto spat in return. "And she didn't make the slightest effort to deny it. She admitted it to my face!"

"No," Ochiyo said heavily, "I said I _talked_ to her. There's a world of difference between—"

"_Enough!_" There was a sudden, loud bang. They looked around, startled, to see that Seki had slammed a book down on the table. The woman glared around the room. "Enough," she repeated, her words cold and angry. "This is going nowhere."

Makoto gave her a mutinous look. "Then what do you—"

"Enough, I said! Another minute and you'll be fighting each other—and we both know where that leads, don't we?" Makoto stared at her, shocked and furious, but then subsided. Seki went on, her voice harsh and angry. "Liam and Artemis were right, a minute ago. You want to put Suzue-san on trial, without even having the grace to let her face her accusers? 'Star Chamber' indeed! Well, I think not."

She lifted her left hand and Ochiyo saw, with mild surprise, that she wore a Senshi communicator. "Now, please," Seki said into the tiny device on her wrist.

The rear door of the room opened, and Suzue came in. She looked around the room and said quietly, "Good evening, everyone." Her face was serene and composed, despite the black eye. Then, unhurried, she knelt down on the floor, hands on her thighs…and waited.

The thunderbolt did not take long to fall.

月

Makoto had felt a growing sense of disbelief and outrage as the argument proceeded. It wasn't meant to be this way. They were all supposed to leap to her side and support her! They were supposed to _understand_. Why didn't they realise that this needed to be done? Why couldn't they _see_?

Makoto had no big issues with religion. Even apart from the Buddhism and Shinto predominant in Japan, in her long life she had known Muslims, Christians, Hindus (a nod to Dhiti, there), Sikhs, Jews, Mormons, and probably others. Even a few really weird ones; she'd worked with a pair of Wiccans for a while in Canada, not long before the Fall, and she had thought they were genuinely crazy; but she had no problem with them. They were welcome to believe whatever they wanted.

But the Loonies were different. When she thought of the Serenity she had known—and, further back, of the Usagi of her youth; and even, long before that, of the delicate, naïve princess she had served in the days of the Silver Millennium—what Makoto remembered was the best, closest friend she had ever had, in all her lives. A true soul friend, take her for all in all; at turns raucous and compassionate, childish yet wise, helpless and yet strong. Such a _human_ friend. And the idea of a bunch of supercilious, upstart newcomers bowing down to this woman—_praying_ to her, for heaven's sake, singing _hymns_ to her—it turned her stomach, it honestly did; it made her feel physically ill. Their blindness and their smug, self-satisfied arrogance and their basic, fundamental _wrongness_ infuriated her beyond measure. She could hardly even bear to think about how they called the other Senshi saints. Gentle Ami, fiery Rei, madcap Minako, and Makoto herself, all of them as human as could be, and they wanted to light candles and ask their blessings? That was even more revolting, if anything. No, it was wrong, it was evil, and she would never, _could_ never accept it.

And yet here one of them sat, presuming to be a Senshi. Sitting here among them, smug as you please, as if she had the right! The living embodiment of wilful ignorance and delusion; the emblem of everything that was wrong with the modern world.

Still, at some level, deep inside, Makoto knew she was not being quite rational about this. She had known Suzue for a while now; she knew that the sombre, serious girl was not an enemy. All she was really guilty of was hiding who and what she really was. Makoto remembered, suddenly, what Ochiyo had said to her at the door: _You can let it go. There's still time._

But then, rearing up once more from the back of her memory, she heard her father saying at her, on the worst day of her life: _A lie of omission is still a lie._ And then, crazily, his voice rose to a wild shriek: _No true daughter of mine! A cuckoo! A cuckoo in the nest!_

And the old, familiar rage washed over her.

月

Beth had been feeling confused and upset since Makoto's call on Monday. The news had shaken her, badly. Suzue was…well, not a friend, exactly, but someone she had been coming to trust; a girl who had fought at her side, protected her in battle. Someone to be relied on. Even a partner.

Then, on Monday, everything went topsy-turvy. Her dreams that night, and ever since, had been the same: a darkened street; a police Opal marked nearby; a group of would-be burglars, bound inside her Love-Me Chain; a policewoman stalking away from her, radiating anger and resentment…and the other thing. The man who knelt at her feet and gazed up at her, with worship in his eyes and words of adoration on his lips. The squirming horror she felt as he tried to kiss her hand. And the wind in her face and the dry panic in her mouth as she ran, and ran, and ran.

She had gotten over it eventually. Of course she had. Except that now it seemed that perhaps she hadn't, because the sight of Suzue kneeling there placidly—kneeling!—filled her with the same breathless horror she had felt that night. Only this time, she didn't want to run away. She wanted to hide. She wanted to open her eyes and see that everything was all right again. She wanted Suzue to be gone.

Bendis was wrong. Was it really all that bad? Yes. It was.

Thank goodness that Makoto was here. Beth was no hero, not like Sailor Venus, but Makoto, at least, seemed to know what was what—even if the others didn't. She would do the right thing.

It did not take Makoto long to exceed her expectations.

月

"Get out," Makoto said. Her voice was low and hard. "You don't belong here. Get out of this house."

Suzue looked up at her slowly. She had been dreading this moment; but now that it was here, somehow, she felt only a calm determination. "I am a Senshi," she said, "and I was invited."

"I don't care about that!" Makoto snapped. "You don't belong here, and you never will. Just get out, and spread your poison somewhere else."

Suzue started to answer, but Makoto turned and rounded upon Ochiyo. "What were you thinking?" she demanded. "Everyone knows what they're like! Why did you invite her? How can you think she could ever be one of us?"

"I didn't invite her," said Ochiyo. Her face, Suzue thought, held a hint of something like sadness.

"What? You—"

"I invited her," said Seki.

Suzue had known it was coming. All the same, it was a little disturbing to see the shock and dismay on Makoto's face. A look of betrayal.

"You?" Makoto whispered.

"Me," said Seki. She stood, moving up to speak to Makoto face-to-face. "Suzue-san is right, Mako-chan. She is a Senshi. Like it or not, she belongs here."

"How can you think that?" Makoto asked, almost pleading. "How can you just stand there and accept this? You, of all people! You know how—how deluded she is. You ought to be furious! You should be _helping_ me! How can you take this so calmly?"

Seki paused. Then, reluctantly, she said, "Because I have known about Suzue-san and her beliefs for a long time now."

"…What?"

"Since the day of our first real meeting," Seki admitted. "You remember; she fainted when I told everyone who I was."

Suzue looked away, flushing. She had not wanted to remember that moment.

"After the meeting, when most of the girls had left, she came to me and admitted everything. Bowed down and offered me reverence, cool as you please." Seki's lips twitched. "I was…a little unhappy."

"Unhappy," said Makoto. Her face was thunderous and as she spoke, her voice rose to a roar. "Unhappy? You have got to be fucking kidding me. You've known about her all this time, and _you never said a word?_"

A silence fell. Most of the room were on their feet, now; only Suzue herself was still on the floor. Liam had moved up behind Makoto, his face grim, as if ready to restrain her. All eyes were on the two women. Suzue watched silently, hardly daring to breathe.

"That's right," Seki answered, stony-faced. "I never said a word, because I thought somebody might go off the deep end. I thought it would be Artemis, though; I never expected you, Mako-chan."

"Damn you, I—"

"And _anyway_," Seki overrode her, "in the meantime, Suzue and I have discussed the subject. Several times. If it matters, I think she's wrong." She grimaced. "And she thinks I'm wrong. But we can be polite about it, at least."

She paused, and her face softened. "Serenity and I talked about it as well, the other night." She glanced down at Suzue, then back to Makoto. "What she said…well, I suppose she had a point. And she did not reject Suzue-san."

Suzue's eyes widened. Seki and the Blessed Lady had talked about her? She felt a sudden, burning desire to jump up and press Seki for details. A single look at the woman's face, though, told her that none would be forthcoming. With difficulty, she remained where she was.

"Seki," Makoto groaned. "Rei-chan. You can't just _accept_ this. You can't! It's wrong, don't you see? It's…it's sick."

"I do accept it," Seki said quietly. "Mako-chan, it's not such a big thing. It really isn't. Nobody's asking you to agree with her. But is it so much to ask, for you to be able to work with her?"

That, Suzue decided, was her cue, if anything was. She rose to her feet and approached Makoto cautiously. After a heartbeat's deliberation, she held out a hand. "Makoto-san," she said, "please, can't we agree to—"

She never even saw Makoto move. She simply found herself lying on the floor, on her back. Makoto stood over her, fists clenched. There was a fierce heat in her face, right over the un-blackened eye.

_Well,_ she thought muzzily, _at least I'll match._ Then the pain hit, and she let out an involuntary gasp.

Makoto stared down at her. Her face was a mask of cold stone, almost terrifying in its intensity. "I will never accept you," she said. "Never."

Suzue stared back, and something inside her hardened. "Join the club," she snarled.

Makoto did not reply. She turned and pushed her way through the others, opened the door to the entryway and went through without a word. The door clicked quietly shut behind her.

月

"Um," said Dhiti. "Maybe I ought to go after her."

Seki let out a sigh. "No. Leave her be. I don't think she'd be in the mood for your brand of soothing right now."

"Ha! I'll have you know, I can—" Dhiti paused. "Or, well, maybe you're right."

Liam cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "In the meantime," he said, "we still need to decide what to do about Suzue-san."

As he spoke, he bent down and helped Suzue to her feet. She stood for a moment, touching her eye and wincing. "Just why," she asked, "does everybody think they need to _do something_ about me?" A hint of bitterness entered her voice. "Why can't you all just let me _be_?"

Liam gave her a long, measured look. "I think…you polarise us," he said in a reflective tone. "One way or another, what you represent can't be ignored. I'm sorry, Suzue-san, but that's the truth." He paused and then added, shaking his head, "Artemis was right, too. You want to be one of the Senshi, but you hide who you truly are. That's wrong, Suzue-san. How can you expect them to trust you, if you can't trust them?"

She let out a rusty laugh, one that was utterly without humour. "The Blessed Lady said exactly the same thing." She saw the sudden recognition in his eyes; and at the same moment, she felt a sudden tingle up her spine as she realised, as if for the first time, who she was talking to. Who it was that had just helped her up. _Endymion._ Chiba Mamoru. Consort to the Lady Herself.

Her breath caught, and for one instant, automatically, she started to lower her head in reverence. But then a face swam up in her memory, a tousle-haired blonde woman with cool, clear eyes, and she heard the voice again: _Kiddo, you're a Senshi! You have been chosen. That __makes_ you worthy.

No, she decided, and felt her body stiffen with resolve. No more bowing. Not here, not to these people.

"You're wrong, Keenan-san," she said, and knew as she spoke that she was, finally, taking the right tone. "I don't _want_ to be a Senshi. I _am_ a Senshi. And if Makoto-san can't accept that…then that is her problem. Not mine."

"Hmm." He looked at her for a moment longer, his eyebrows slightly raised. Then he smiled faintly. "Well, then."

She nodded back, puzzled but relieved, and then looked around the room. Liam, Seki, Ochiyo, Dhiti, Beth, Iku…and the cats, Artemis and Bendis. And they were all looking at her. Of course.

She took a deep breath, then stepped forward and formally bowed to them all. "Everybody," she said. "I am a member of the Church of Serenity. And I am very sorry for hiding it from you."

Nobody said anything for a little, and after a while she realised that it was because nobody could think of anything to say. What _do_ you say to an announcement like that?

Then Dhiti cleared her throat, and she realised with a sinking feeling that if anybody could think of something, it would just have to be her.

"So," Dhiti said musingly, "you really do believe that Queen Serenity was a goddess?"

"Yes," answered Suzue, keeping her voice calm and patient and resisting the urge to be sarcastic. "I really do."

"And after that big Senshi meeting, the other week…you really bowed down to Itsuko-san? That really happened?"

"Er…yes."

"Oh, God," said Dhiti, and her face took on a faraway, wistful look. "Oh, God, I wish I'd seen that."

"Dhiti," said Seki, pained.

"Sorry, Saint Hino," said Dhiti, unrepentant. Seki started to turn a thunderous look on her, and she added, with a devilish glint in her eye, "Sorry, Most Holy Lady of the Flame and the Spirit."

A new outbreak of mayhem began to take shape in the room, and Suzue obligingly stepped out of the way as it happened. As she did so, a new thought occurred to her, and she gave Dhiti a long, measuring look. That had been Hino Rei's full, correct Church title. But why would Dhiti, of all people, have known it?

Unless Dhiti had been doing some reading up on the Church, once Suzue's secret was out.

That…was an interesting thought. However, it did not prevent Suzue from standing aside and watching, with a deep and abiding sense of satisfaction, as the Wrath of God descended upon Sharma Dhiti.

月

Makoto marched out of the house, her fists clenched. It was quite dark now, and a thin crescent of silver moon hung in the western sky, just above the horizon. She stood watching it, so angry that she could hardly breathe.

They had betrayed her. She knew it was not true, she knew that she was overreacting in a drastic way, but still that was how she felt. She had counted on the others, and Seki especially, to be on her side, and they had failed her, every one. They had chosen Suzue, the invader.

And here Makoto stood, on the outside. It was as if she had been thrown from her home, all over again. Once more, she was alone. Cast out. She did not want to cry, but still she felt hot tears of rage and shame pricking in her eyes.

A sudden scuffling noise, not far away in the darkness, made her jump. Her heart pounding, she peered around, trying to see. Nothing was there. After a minute she started to relax—and then the scuffling came again, and she saw a dark shape moving on the fence.

"Deimos?" she called in a low voice. "Phobos? Is that you?"

They could not be the original crows, of course, not after all this time. All the same, there were no other crows around in the area, none at all, and in her own mind Makoto had privately started to call them that. Seki refused point-blank to discuss them at all, but she got a funny smile on her face whenever she saw them. It was all very mysterious and cryptic, and Seki probably liked it that way.

The dark shape moved again, and gave a single harsh cry. Then it hopped off the fence and fluttered to the ground, halfway down the path to the gate. She could see it clearly now, stark black under the ghostly blue streetlights.

Grumbling to herself, her heart still beating fast from the surprise, Makoto leaned back against the front door. She closed her eyes, and the anger and resentment came flooding back in a rush. How could they do that? How could they stand by someone who was a mockery of everything the Senshi stood for?

When she opened her eyes, the crow still stood in the path, motionless, watching her silently.

She eyed it for a long time, and felt the first stirring of curiosity. What was it doing? Come to think of it, shouldn't it be asleep off in a tree somewhere?

She looked away sourly, stubbornly ignoring it. Then, with a huff, she gave in. There always had been something uncanny about Rei's crows, damn them. She stepped away from the house and started down the path toward where the bird waited.

It regarded her with a single impenetrable dark eye. As she drew near, it turned and flew a little distance further away. Somehow, she had known it would. She followed it again.

Little by little, it led her out of the gate and down the narrow road, winding its way along the hillside. She followed it grumpily at first, and then with growing intrigue. She had not been in this direction before; school was the other way and she had not yet had a chance to explore. The road was lined with trees, and the streetlights cast only an intermittent, eerie glow across the way. It was as if she were walking through a dream.

After a minute or two, the crow suddenly left the road and appeared to fly up to someone's house. But no; when she reached the spot, she saw that there was a little alley, almost invisible, that led between two buildings and away from the street. She paused, uncertain. The crow watched her. Then, suddenly, she grinned, and carried on. Her dark mood was almost forgotten now.

The alley wove its way between houses, turning this way and that, and then began to climb the hill in a series of old, worn stone steps. She paused at the foot, eyeing them uncertainly. They looked…almost too old. Then, with a shrug, she started upward.

The way was steep, and she was soon breathing hard. It was treacherous going; the steps were slippery with moss. The surrounding buildings cast a deep shadow over the stairway, too, and at times she had to feel her way. The going became hypnotic: step, feel; step, feel. Soon, she had lost all track of time.

And then, suddenly, there was no new step beneath her foot, and she sprawled forward onto a rough stone surface. She was at the top.

The spell was broken. She climbed to her knees, looking around wildly. The stairs ended in a gateway that opened into a wide, open courtyard paved with dark cobblestones, and bordered by a low wall of rough-hewn blocks. It was dimly lit by the moon, and she could see a marker stone of some kind in the centre of the area. The crow stood perched on top of it, watching her silently.

Makoto took a single step toward it, and it sprang up and flew off with a clatter of wings. She lost it in the darkness almost immediately. She was alone.

She walked over to the marker post and knelt down to examine it. There were letters cut into it, old and worn. She traced them with a finger, but in the dim light she could not make them all out. She could only read:—DAI. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she could not place it.

Shaking her head, she rose once more and went back to the wall. As she reached it and looked back down the hill for the first time, her breath caught. The sight was magnificent. The tallest houses on the hillside were below the level of the summit, and she had an uninterrupted view across Third Tokyo, all the way to the distant glimmer of the Archives Dome at the heart of the city. She was looking down on a vast sea of twinkling, glittering colour. Never before had it all seemed so _alive_.

She stood for a while, simply drinking it in. Then, slowly, she found her eyes lifting, up to the crescent moon, shimmering on the distant horizon. A reminder of everything she had lost. It had nearly set now; even as she watched, the lower horn began to dip out of sight.

Her eyes were watering, for no good reason. She blinked the moisture away, and shifted her gaze. There: a little higher, and more to the southwest, shining bravely in the night sky. The planet Jupiter.

She watched the stars for a long time.

月

The new squabble did not solve anything, of course, though at least it broke the ice. Artemis grumbled quietly as the girls settled down once more, but privately he was not dissatisfied. Now, maybe they would be able to get somewhere.

He waited for a lull and then raised his voice to ask Suzue, "Why did you hide it?"

The murmur of voices and laughter stopped almost at once. Suzue, who had taken a seat a little apart from the others, raised her head and looked back at him without speaking for a second before lifting a hand to indicate her black eye. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked.

"No," he said curtly. "It's not enough. Liam-san asked you before, but you didn't really answer. You may be a Senshi, Suzue-san, but are you part of this team? How can you expect everyone to trust you, when you hide what you are? _Why_ did you hide it?"

She shook her head, and winced at the movement. "People don't like us, Artemis-sama. Almost everyone. You can't know what it's like. They break our windows at night, they write graffiti on the walls, sometimes they do worse things—two temples were burned down in the last three years. And at school…" With a sigh, she said, "So we learn not to talk about it, that's all. We know what happens when we do. You saw what Makoto-san thought. Seki-san was nearly as bad, when I first told her. I think you don't much care for us, either. And Beth-san—" She turned to look at Beth, who shied away as if from a blow. Suzue finished sadly, "I think she may be worse than any of you. You just don't like us; but Beth-san is afraid of us."

Artemis had not noticed that at all, as a matter of fact. Concerned, he began, "What did—"

"No," she interrupted. "That's…something for her and me to work out ourselves, I think. Beth-san—" Addressing the girl directly, she said, "I am sorry, I truly am. I started to tell you, that day at the warehouse, but we got interrupted."

Beth said nothing; but after a few seconds she gave a tiny nod, and looked away.

"Anyway," Suzue went on, "I did tell Seki-san—back when I found out who she was. She…wasn't happy, and after that…" She took a deep breath. "I…I just thought, it would be easier if I didn't…"

"You knelt down and offered her reverence," said Liam quietly. "How did it make you feel, doing that?"

Suzue glanced nervously over at Seki. "I…well, scared, I suppose. And, um, embarrassed. It didn't really feel real, you know? I mean, she just seemed so _normal_, it was hard to believe she was one of the saints—"

Seki cleared her throat meaningfully, and Suzue broke off. Seki nodded, satisfied. But then Suzue went on: "Not until later—after I saw her speaking to the Holy Lady, on Saturday night. After she…said all that to Her." Seki's face was clouding over again, and Suzue finished in an impassioned rush, "After all that, I know better. Now I really _believe_ she's a saint."

"Oh, for—" Seki began in a roar; but she was almost drowned out by Liam and Dhiti, laughing.

Suzue rose and stepped delicately over to Seki's side. Looking down at the angry figure, she said, "You are a very holy woman, Seki-san…and I'm awfully glad that I met you." Then, before Seki could move, she bent down and kissed her forehead, before taking a half-step back and kneeling placidly down on the floor once more.

Seki stared at her, still angry and yet somehow disarmed. Finally she looked away, grumbling. Artemis shook his head, grumbling himself. This meeting was a _shambles_.

To his left, he heard Dhiti mutter under her breath, "Saint Seki-sama," and giggle. Silently, he groaned.

Across the room, Liam cleared his throat. "So," he said, "is everyone all right with this? Uh, apart from—"

"I'll talk to Makoto," growled Seki.

"It might be better if I did," he said gently, and after a moment's thought she nodded. He looked around and said, "And the rest of you?"

"Hey, it doesn't bother _me_," said Dhiti at once. "Kind of nice to see under that cool exterior, y'know?" She waggled her eyebrows at Suzue, grinning.

"Ochiyo-san? Beth-san? Iku-san? Bendis-san?"

"Me?" piped up Bendis, surprised. "Er…I don't mind. I don't actually see what all the fuss is about, to be honest."

"Suzue-san and I have already talked about it," said Ochiyo. "I don't have any problems."

"It…it's okay," said Iku, in a voice just above a whisper. She looked nervous, Artemis noticed, and kept glancing at her watch.

Liam turned toward Beth. Again, she looked away, her face taut and expressionless. He waited, and at last she said, in a low, thick voice, "Oh…do what you want. You will anyway."

Liam raised his eyebrows and glanced at Artemis, and after a reluctant pause, he nodded. The cat did not relish the idea of trying to talk the girl around, not when he halfway agreed with her, but someone had to do it. The Senshi needed to be a team if they were to have a chance of defeating the enemy.

Besides, Liam was going to have a much harder time of it, trying to talk some sense into Makoto.

Artemis looked away from the young man, and saw that Ochiyo was watching him. She held his eyes, her face unreadable, and then deliberately glanced around the room and said, "Maybe we should move on."

Seki raised her eyebrows, surprised. "What else did we have to talk about?"

"Everything!" Ochiyo's lips tightened; then she said, "Saturday night, to start with."

"Oh, boy," said Dhiti. "Y'know, me and Artemis had a, well, kind of discussion about that, and—"

"Discussion!" Artemis snorted.

"Hey, I apologised, didn't I?…Eventually?"

"Do you two mind?" inquired Seki.

"Ah—"

"Saturday night was a mistake," said Artemis bluntly. "I'm sorry, Princess, but it's a fact. Going to 'M' Division was foolish. It did nothing but give the Council ammunition against you."

Ochiyo's eyes narrowed. "I'm not convinced," she said. "I think it did a lot of important things for us. It put us on the offensive, for one thing. Isn't it better to be acting, than reacting? We should be trying to carry the fight to the enemy, not waiting for them to attack us. For another thing, it told the Council that we know what they're doing, and we're not going to let them get away with it."

"But we _don't_ know what they're doing," pointed out Seki.

"We know that they're creating giant monsters, and working with the evil that destroyed Crystal Tokyo. Isn't that enough?"

"Not enough to let us carry the fight to the enemy," said Artemis bluntly. "A little practical data would help there. In the meantime, you've let them paint you as a bunch of delinquent hooligans! They haven't publicly said that it was you who did it, not yet, but how long do you think it will be before word gets out about that idiotic carve-your-name-in-the-wall trick?" (Suzue flinched.) "What are people going to think of you then?"

"I don't much care," said Ochiyo, to his surprise. Her voice was perfectly calm, but her eyes flashed. As he gaped at her, she went on, "It doesn't matter what people think of us. We're not here to win popularity contests. We're here to fight the enemy, and keep them from destroying the world again. _That's_ what matters."

Artemis stared at her, his mouth opening and closing silently several times. At last he began, "But don't you see—"

"Anyway," Ochiyo overrode him ruthlessly, "that's not what I wanted to talk about. You say you want some hard data about the enemy? Here's some hard data." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of items, setting them down on the floor in front of him. "So, what do these tell us?" She looked him in the eye and waited. The challenge was unmistakable.

Artemis did nothing at first; he simply looked back at her, considering. Finally, with a mental shrug, he looked down. Bendis was already nosing the two objects, and he nudged her away so he could get a better look.

A mock-leather wallet, first. He opened it with one paw and saw an ID card inside, for one Kasamatsu Amane of something called the Technical Enforcement Network. Neither name meant anything to him.

The other item was a long, narrow sliver of crystal, the size of a human finger. That one needed no further explanation.

"The ID card was in a pile of clothes in Itsuko-san's office," said Ochiyo quietly. "Seki-san's, I mean. I'm guessing that those crystal things, the vitrimorphs, were in human form to start with, and then changed. Is that right?"

"Yes," said Seki. She bent and picked up the wallet, studying it closely. The other girls crowded around her to look over her shoulder. "They looked human enough at first…though they acted oddly." She narrowed her eyes in thought. "'Technical Enforcement Network.' That 'S' Division captain mentioned it, too. One of them gave him his ID, and he said he'd never heard of it."

"Maybe," murmured Beth, "we should be investigating this Technical Enforcement Network."

"By which you mean me," grumbled Dhiti. "More computer work. Yay."

"All right," said Artemis reluctantly to Ochiyo. "You may have something there. But what about the crystal? We've seen more than enough of it by now, I assure you."

She shrugged. "That's for Dhiti-san, too. I was thinking: what _are_ these vitrimorphs? Where do they come from? Maybe if she can analyse the crystal, she can—"

"Uh," said Dhiti. "I hate to break it to you, Ochiyo-san, but…you know, I'm not exactly an expert with that computer thing. Er, kind of the opposite, really."

Ochiyo cocked an eye at her, and said, "You seemed to do pretty well on Saturday night."

"Yeah, but—" Dhiti sighed. "Why can't someone else be the computer expert? I don't even like the things! And anyway—" She broke off, looking uncomfortable.

"Yes?" inquired Seki.

"Well…actually, I tried analysing a piece of one of those things already, a few weeks ago." She twisted nervously, and would not meet anyone's eyes. "But it wasn't any use; the computer just started giving me a lot of crazy talk. In the end I had to give up."

Artemis gave the girl a suspicious look. "What sort of crazy talk?"

"Oh, what does it matter?" she snapped. "I don't even remember! Some kind of nonsense about shellfish and cobwebs."

Seki snorted. "You must have done something wrong."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should try it, then!"

Artemis studied her thoughtfully. You had to be careful with Dhiti. She was very good at distracting you when she didn't want to do something; and he was getting the idea that, whatever she had found, it had bothered her for some reason.

"We could try it again," he suggested casually. "I'll help. I saw Ami using the computer, often enough. Maybe together, we can work out what it was talking about."

"Oh, but—no—I mean—"

He watched her flounder, and thought with real surprise, and not a little dread, that she was actually going to take him up on the offer. (He was no better with computers that she professed herself to be. Possibly worse.) But just as he was about to speak up once more, she turned her head away, closed her eyes, and said in a low voice:

"Daimons."

"What!" He froze, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Seki do the same. "What did you say?"

"Daimons," said Dhiti. She would not look up, but her voice was clear. "It…the computer said there were patterns in the crystal that matched Daimon traits. And human DNA. And…and star alignments."

"Stars?" said Ochiyo, her tone incredulous.

"Yeah." Dhiti looked up and tried to grin. It looked ghastly. "The stars as they were, two million years ago."

A long pause followed. Then Suzue said, "But that's absurd."

"You think I don't _know_ that?"

"I mean, how could you possibly think—"

Artemis let them argue, not really listening. The ghost of a memory was pricking at him. Something about what Dhiti had said…He tried, but it would not come. He shook his head, disgruntled; and from the corner of his eye, he saw Iku's lips moving silently.

He padded over to her and looked up into her face, normally so shuttered but for once half-open as she wrestled with a problem outside her own mysterious woes. He said, "What is it?"

She started, and shied away from him automatically. Artemis made a mental note, for the dozenth time, to look into what was making her so timid. Was she being bullied at school? Gently, he repeated, "What is it? Did you think of something?"

"Oh—no, I didn't—it's not important—" He waited patiently as she stammered, until in the end, under his patient look, she gave in and whispered, "Human DNA."

He cocked his head to one side. "What about it?"

"I—I was just thinking. Were they human once? A-are we murderers, every time we kill one?" She wilted under the shocked look he gave her, and added, "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't interrupt. Please…"

Seki had come over as she spoke, and now the older woman touched her shoulder. Iku fell silent instantly, and her whole body seemed to tense. Looking down at Artemis, Seki said, "It's a good question."

"I know," he answered. "That Kasamatsu Amane—did he die on Saturday night? Did we kill him? But what else can we do, Seki?"

Dhiti and Suzue had stopped arguing, unnoticed behind them. Now Suzue said, "Here's a better question. Was Kasamatsu Amane a vitrimorph—or did someone turn him _into_ a vitrimorph? Because if they did, then they were the ones who killed him. Not us."

Glancing back at Dhiti, she added, "Maybe you really should be looking up that Technical Enforcement Network, Dhiti-san."

月

The meeting broke up after that. Everyone had run out of things to say. Over the general milling around as everyone got up and stretched, Seki offered them drinks and snacks. Most of the girls accepted happily, but Iku did not stay. She looked at her watch again, flinched, and then hurried away with no more than a breathless whisper to Ochiyo: "I'm sorry—I have to go…"

Ochiyo watched the door close behind her with puzzled amusement. She said, to nobody in particular, "She must get a lot of homework, right?"

Nearby, Dhiti answered, "I don't know; she's always like that. It's a mystery." Raising her voice, she said, "Hey, Beth-chan—you're her friend at school, right? What's the story? What's her problem?"

Beth looked around, jarred out of some private musing. "Who, Iku-san? Um, I'm not sure. She hardly ever says anything at school, either. It's kind of weird. Actually—" Her eyes lost focus for an instant. "Wha—now that _is_ weird."

"What?"

"Nana—that is, another girl at school. The other day, out of the blue, she suddenly told me I should ask Iku-san about her puppy. I'd almost forgotten about that."

"She has a dog?" said Ochiyo. "Maybe she had to go home to feed it."

"Huh," muttered Bendis audibly. "Who in their right minds would want a puppy?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "Well, they are popular, you know."

"Oh, please. All they do is yap all day and piddle on the carpet. If _I_ did that, you wouldn't think it was cute."

"It's quite an endearing picture, though," said Dhiti with a grin. "If you decide to try it, be sure to let me—" She paused, and the smirk faded from her face. "Huh. Now _that's_ weird."

"Oh, now what?" inquired Ochiyo, clearly amused.

"Well…I dreamed about her the other night. Saturday night, as a matter of fact. Iku…with a puppy."

Imperceptibly, Ochiyo paused. Her eyes narrowed. "You had an odd dream on Saturday night?"

"Uh—yeah, well, don't put too much stock in it. I also dreamed she was dressed as Sailor Mercury."

"Ri-i-ight." Ochiyo looked relieved, for some reason. She grinned. "Wishful thinking?"

"As if! You're not getting rid of me that easily, Ochiyo-san." Dhiti's eyes glinted, and she glanced down at the tabby cat as she said, "Tell you what, though. She can wear a Mercury costume when she sings karaoke. In honour of my victory over Bendis."

"Oh, now this sounds interesting," Ochiyo said over the indignant sputtering of the cat, and leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "Tell me more."

月

Beth turned away as the two of them began plotting together, and went back for more snacks. It had not, on the whole, been a good evening, and she was looking forward to leaving. In a few minutes. After she'd tried a couple more takoyaki.

They had probably been made by Makoto, she reflected as she munched happily a few seconds later. But that thought brought the whole unpleasantness back, and she grimaced as if at a bad taste. She wondered where Makoto had gone. Surely she wouldn't have done anything drastic? Maybe someone should have gone after her, as Dhiti had suggested. Or maybe Beth should call and say how much she agreed—

She felt a touch at her elbow, and turned to see Suzue. Involuntarily, she froze.

"We ought to talk," said Suzue.

Beth pulled her arm free. "What's to say?" she said dully. "Everyone thinks it's perfectly all right, so what does it matter?"

"Beth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, and I'm sorry some idiot from the Church tried to give you reverence and scared you. I really am. But there's no way I can make it up to you, and I…I can't change who I am. I _won't_ change it."

Beth was silent.

"He _was_ an idiot, that man," Suzue persisted. "I mightn't have thought so once, but…well, what you said to me the other day, at the warehouse, it made me think. What if my family found out what I am, and bowed down to _me_? And—" She made a face. "I thought how horrible that would be."

"You bowed down to Seki-san," said Beth petulantly.

"Yes, and she didn't like it very much either," Suzue retorted. She shot Beth a sidelong glance and said, with a touch of asperity, "Rest assured, I have no plans to bow down to _you_."

"Good!" The two of them stared at each other defiantly for a long moment—until, with a sigh, Beth shook her head and looked away. "I just don't understand," she said, suddenly tired of the whole subject. "How can you believe all that stuff?"

Suzue shrugged. "You saw her, on Saturday night," she said. "She died, seven hundred years ago, and yet she was there. And you saw what she was like. Beth-san, what I don't understand is why you _don't_ believe?"

"Because—" Beth had to fumble for a reply. It was not something she had ever thought about. "Because what would that make me?" she asked. It was the best she could come up with on the spot. "I'm not a saint…or a goddess."

"Neither am I," answered Suzue slowly. "I think we've been chosen by her, that's all. To act in her name—in the name of the moon. And on behalf of the planet Venus, and Uranus…and all the rest. And that's _more_, do you see? More than saints; _Senshi_."

"I don't know…"

"Look, I do it because I believe that we're fighting in a holy cause; I truly do. But _you_ do it because you know how vital what we do is; because somebody _must_ act, and you're the one who _can_. If anything, that makes you a lot more heroic than me."

That was not exactly why Beth was acting as a Senshi. It was more that, once she had been given her powers, she could not imagine _not_ being a Senshi. It was like living out all her fantasies, all at once. But she did not say that. She said, "Uh…thanks."

"Beth-san, don't you see? I believe what I believe, but I'm not asking you to believe it too. That would be nice…but I don't expect it. All I ask is that you not reject me just because you disagree with me. Is that fair?"

Put like that, of course, it was hard to say no. All the same, Beth did not want to agree. She still felt a little betrayed; and, worse, she felt as if she were being asked to go along with something she knew was wrong, just for the sake of harmony. It was hard to accept.

_Minako-sama, what am I supposed to do?_ she thought. But of course there was no reply.

She found herself studying the girl before her. Black eyes or not, there was nothing but sincerity in her face. And that was the essential problem, in a nutshell: Suzue believed everything she was saying. Faced with that kind of blind certainty, what was there to do? Nothing Beth could say was going to deflect her. Argument was futile, rationality a lost cause…and the policeman in her memory, kneeling before her with his bright, mad eyes and kissing her hand, had won after all.

But then a memory came to her. The two of them on Saturday night, in the workshop at 'M' Division: Venus cheerfully smashing whatever she could, and Uranus offering suggestions over her shoulder as she wreaked her own more careful destruction. Working together.

And another: at Zarigani Mall, a week ago, as she swung across the shattered concourse to escape an avalanche of falling debris, heading straight toward the vitrimorph that waited to kill her—only to see it leap away at the last instant, from the attack of the slender, elegant figure who stepped forward to greet her as she landed. Invited by a new millennium: Sailor Uranus, acting gracefully. Saving Beth's ass.

Did it really matter all that much what Suzue believed? Really?

"I still think you're wrong," she said in a low voice.

Suzue's lips twitched. "You're not the only one," she answered. And then smiled, and added: "But I can live with that."

Hesitantly, Beth allowed herself to smile in return.

月

Ochiyo broke away from Dhiti when she and Bendis started arguing. (Really, the young cat was adorable! But very defensive in some ways. There seemed to be a rift of some kind between her and Artemis. Ochiyo would have to ask, sometime.) She headed over to the snacks table, but saw that Beth had just finished the last one.

Grinning, she turned away again, and nearly banged into Seki, who was standing nearby. "Sorry," she said.

"My fault," answered Seki. She eyed Ochiyo thoughtfully and said, "You've been taking all of this rather well."

"Not really." Ochiyo shrugged. "I've known _something_ was happening for a while, remember? And it's been—what, nearly two weeks? Since _her_ ghost came and gave me my henshin wand. I've had a bit of time to get used to the idea."

"Even so." Seki paused, and said, "I've been trying to think of a casual way to ask how things have been going at the Olympus since I…left."

"Hah. Okay, I guess." Ochiyo made a face. "I'm probably going to have to give up the late shifts, though."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well…I can't really sleep over in your apartment any more."

"Oh! I should have thought of that." Seki grimaced. "It's not that I'd mind. But you're probably right; it would attract attention. You could just catch the late bus home, you know. On the weekends, at least."

"I suppose so." That was something that _Ochiyo_ hadn't thought of. "My mother wants me to quit the job, anyway," she added. "She got nervous when she heard about, well, everything."

Seki snorted. "How're the staff taking it?"

"They're wondering what's happening. 'P' Division searched your office a couple of times, but they won't tell _us_ anything."

"Not 'P' Division," said Seki absently. "It'd be 'S', I should think."

"Really? Wow." Ochiyo thought for a moment, and then said, "Yukimi-san thinks it's proof that you're an international criminal on the run."

"Ha." Seki shook her head, looking sour. "In a sense, that's almost true."

"Not the way _she_ means it," muttered Ochiyo. "But she's always like that, always! Why do you keep her on, anyway?"

Seki gave her a cool look, and Ochiyo suddenly remembered that she was talking to her employer. "Because she is competent," said Seki, her voice flat; "and whatever you may think of her, schadenfreude is not a firing offence."

"Scha—? I don't know what that means."

"Hmph." With a twisted half-smile, Seki said, "You might say that it's Yukimi-san's raison d'être."

"Is that some foreign language?" asked Ochiyo suspiciously.

Seki laughed quietly. "Ochiyo-chan, go home. It's getting late."

"Oh—all right. Good night, Seki-san." Ochiyo looked away, grinning to herself, and went over to collect the other girls. She saw Liam move over to speak quietly to Seki, and nodded farewell to him. He nodded in reply.

In a couple of minutes, Ochiyo was walking down the path to the gate with Beth, Suzue and Dhiti. Dhiti was chattering, naturally, and the others were listening more or less patiently. For herself, Ochiyo was still mulling over what she had carefully not said to Seki: that nobody was getting paid at the Olympus any longer, and the gymnasium was not likely to keep going much longer. There was nothing Seki could do about that without going back, so why bring it up?

A thought occurred to her, and she suddenly said to the other girls, "I don't suppose any of you know anything about accounting?"

They fell silent, looking at her in surprise. Dhiti, and then Suzue, shook their heads; and just when she was sure that her idea would come to nothing, Beth said, "Um…I've read a bit about it. Why?"

Ochiyo grinned. "Great! I'll give you a call tomorrow, Beth-chan. There's something you might be able to help me with."

月

They parted and went their separate ways. In a few minutes, Suzue was sitting on a bus, rubbing what was probably going to be her second black eye. It occurred to her, in a distant corner of her mind, that the Senshi were supposed to heal fast. Perhaps if she were to try sleeping as Sailor Uranus tonight? But what if her parents came in and caught her?

Most of her attention, though, was on another thought. About Liam, earlier tonight. When he had helped her up, he had been polite, but at the same time coolly condescending. It wasn't until she stood up to him and told him he was wrong that he had started to respect her.

Come to think of it, Itsuko had been the same way. And Haruka too, as a matter of fact, in her dream. None of them would accept subservience. It was something to keep in mind, perhaps, the next time she met Makoto.

But there was more to it than that. For years, Suzue had lived keeping a low profile: hiding what she was, or at least not drawing attention to it. And the others at school—how many of them ever accepted her? They pointed their fingers at the weirdo, the Loonie, in secret, and damn few of them ever gave her any respect.

_I know what it costs you to maintain your beliefs,_ said the Blessed Lady in her memory, _but Suzue, that does not excuse you, does it?_ And also: _If you value your beliefs, you need to be prepared to fight for them._

Could it be that keeping a low profile was a bad idea? Perhaps it was time to try holding her head high. She might take some lumps for it, yes, but…maybe she should start standing up for herself.

Whatever the cost.

月

Inside the house, Liam said to Seki, "Let me find her. Seeing you right now might set her off again."

Seki made a face. "I suppose so." Shaking her head, she said, "This whole thing is pretty messed-up, isn't it? I mean, she's way over the line, yes…but I can see where she's coming from."

Liam chuckled. "I can see where they're both coming from. Don't worry, Rei-chan. I'll try and smooth things down a little."

He made his farewells and left quietly. Outside, he walked down to the gate and stood quietly for a minute, thinking. Now, where might Makoto have gone?

He closed his eyes and gradually let his senses extend. He had never been a warrior in past lifetimes, not the way the girls were. He could fight when he needed to, yes, but his real powers and talents lay in other directions. Psychometry; healing; those he could do.

Now, he tried to open his mind and let the impressions come. It was not a telepathic contact that he sought; nothing so crude. Rather, he was trying to sense the world itself: the flows and patterns of events; the ghostly touch of the innumerable threads of fate as they endlessly wove and reshaped themselves around the countless branchings and decisions that the Earth made, each and every instant. Every single thing that happened, ever, was part of that flow, from the fall of a speck of dust…to the movements of an angry girl as she stormed out into the night.

This was not something he had done before, not consciously; but it was, in a way, an extension of a sense that he already had: that delicate, instinctive knowledge of when those he loved were in danger. He had a special connection to the world's soul; to Elysion. He hoped that it would be enough.

He stood for a long time, eyes still closed. The evening was quiet and still; the sounds of traffic a few blocks away did not impinge upon his senses at all. He let the darkness and the silence sink into him until he could feel nothing but the night.

When he opened his eyes again and looked about, it was as if he were seeing a different world. The street he stood in had not changed, but somehow it seemed to have gained more…depth. It was more _real_ than it had been before; as if he had only ever seen it in two dimensions, but now he could see the third. The world around him was more vivid; it had more colour, and weight.

He gazed all around him with a quiet sense of wonder, delighted with his new discovery. He played with it, to start with. Then, after a little, he became gradually aware that, as his head turned, his eyes kept catching in a particular direction. There was nothing visible to distinguish it; rather, in a way he could not quite pinpoint, it seemed to feel more…attractive? No; more fitting. More _right_.

Nodding to himself, he turned and started to walk slowly down the street. He did not try to watch where he was going; he was simply moving in a direction that somehow felt better than any other. After a little, he realised that he was even setting his feet down carefully, in particular spots. Places where someone else had stepped, perhaps. He wondered if someone watching him would think that his stride matched that of a teenaged girl.

After a little, still following his ghost path, he found himself turning into a narrow alleyway that led between two houses and up the hill. He did not make the turn consciously; again, it was simply a direction that felt better. All the same, as he moved onward, he became gradually aware that there was something else here, too. Something odd: as if he were coming to a place that he knew from long ago.

The alley became a flight of stone steps that led up the hill, turning this way and that. Liam did not hurry; indeed, the world he moved through was so timeless and still that the idea of haste seemed obscene. But at last, an indefinable period later, the steps ended in a wide, open area, paved with close-fitting stones and bounded by a low wall. A marker post stood in the centre, and he stepped forward to look at it. The name carved into it was so worn that it was almost indecipherable, but with the strange acuity of his vision he could make out the letters clearly: SENDAI. And then, finally, he understood the sense of familiarity he had felt—and even why Rei had chosen this place, above all others, for a bolt-hole when she had had to flee the Olympus. After so many years, she had come home.

Smiling to himself, he straightened and let his otherworldly perception fall away. The ordinary, everyday universe snapped back into focus around him, and he blinked. The night was far darker than it had seemed moments before. And, not far away, a figure was standing, silhouetted against the lights of the city.

"Mako-chan," he said.

"Endymion," she said in return. "Come to fetch me back?"

He had expected her to sound bitter, angry; even tearful. Instead, her voice held only a quiet wistfulness.

"Came to see if you're all right," he replied. Then: "It's…peaceful up here."

"Yes," came her voice, peculiarly distant in the night. He wished he could see her better. "I've been watching the stars. They never used to be this bright, in the old days."

Liam laughed softly. "No air pollution from millions of oil-burning cars," he said. "They were this bright in Crystal Tokyo, but after the first century or so we didn't often stop to look, did we? We took it for granted."

"And in the Silver Millennium, too," she returned. "But back then, people looked. They always looked."

He wanted to follow that up—his own memories of the Silver Millennium were so faint and fleeting—but sensed that it would be a mistake to get distracted. He said, "The others were worried about you, you know."

There was silence for a second. Then Makoto said, "I'm sure."

"Really," he insisted. "You were rather…overpowering back there. You scared me, a little."

He heard a dry chuckle. "Not _you_."

"Mako-chan, you can't run away from the issue forever."

Again, she was silent. When she finally answered, it was with a bitter resignation. "Damn you, anyway. I just got calmed down and you're trying to get me angry all over again. Can't you let this be?" He waited, silent, and at last she said, "I'm not going to stand for it; that's all. You tell them that. I'm not going to accept it. Endymion, you know how—how revolting it is, what she believes. You know how Usagi would have hated it. How upset she would have been."

"I know," he said, "that Usako would not have attacked her. Or run away from her."

She snorted. "So what do you want me to do? Smile sweetly at her and say, 'Oh, Suzue-chan, your religion makes a mockery of my entire life, but that's okay, I'm just happy you're sincere. Let's be friends!'? I don't think so."

Liam came close to losing his own temper. "Fine, then," he snapped. "You refuse to accept her? Then don't. But, Mako-chan, she _is_ a Senshi, whether you accept that or not." She started to speak, but he cut her off ruthlessly. "So _work_ with her, damn it! Nobody's asking you to approve of her beliefs, no one says you should be happy about it, but if you can't work alongside her in a…a professional way, then she's twice the Senshi you are."

Makoto stared back at him, and even in the darkness he could feel the coldness of her gaze. "Is that all you've got to say?" she ground out.

"No. I've spoken to her, and…" He hesitated, knowing what her reaction would be, but said it anyway. "She's not a bad person, Mako-chan. Whatever she may believe about Serenity, whatever rubbish her church may have filled her head with, it doesn't make her a bad person."

He expected a new eruption, but instead she did not answer for a long time. When she did, her words were so low, almost a whisper, that he had to strain to hear. "Don't you think I know that?"

His head snapped back, his eyes widening. "What? But—"

"Oh, damn it, don't you think I _know_ that already?" she said, more strongly. "I've known her longer than you, Endymion. Do you really think I can't see that she's one of us? But then she suddenly hits us with this, and it's—God, I don't know what to think any more! She—she was supposed to be a sister Senshi, she was almost my friend…but she stands for something I _despise_, something I just hate so much, and she's _proud_ of it! And I don't know how to take that. I can't…see a way past it, do you understand? I don't know whether to love her or hate her. All I can see is the betrayal. All I can see—" Her voice broke suddenly. "All I can see is my father, that look in his eyes. And…and I finally understand why he had to throw me out. He couldn't see the way past, either."

She was crying, he realised. He did not quite understand the reference to her father, he knew that she had been disowned but not the full story, but that could wait. He stepped forward and took her in his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder and clung to him.

A long time passed. He held her, there in the darkness, and felt his shoulder grow wet with her tears, though she never made a sound. At last, some indefinable time later, he felt her arms slacken, and he released her gently. She withdrew from him, and the two stood in silence for a minute longer.

"Go on," she said quietly. "Go on back down. Tell them I'll be fine. Tell them I'll—I'll find a way to work with her." She took a deep breath, and let it out. "Somehow."

"I can stay, if you'd rather," he offered.

"No. You go back. It's late, and I—" She paused, and he heard an odd, quiet wistfulness in her voice. "I just want to watch the stars for a while longer."

He nodded and turned away, walking back down the path toward the real world. The last he saw of her, as he glanced back just before she disappeared behind the bulk of the hill, was a slender, dark figure silhouetted against the night sky, her head raised and her eyes focused upon the distant twinkle of the planet Jupiter.

月

After Iku made her excuses and escaped from the meeting, she headed down the path and along the street at a dead run. Her ankle throbbed with every step, but she ignored it. She was late, late, so very late, and she knew the consequences. Oh, she knew.

At the bus stop, she waited in frantic, fretful silence for her bus. It arrived in less than five minutes, but it could not have come soon enough. On board, she checked her watch again and again as she rattled her way toward home, but it gave the same damning answer every time.

At the last, as she walked the final hundred metres toward her house, her feet dragged, trying to stave off the inevitable. But sooner or later, she had no choice. Nowhere else to go.

When she opened the front door, Mother was waiting. Iku stepped inside, removed her shoes, and knelt down, head bowed, hands clenched in her lap against what was coming.

Shark-like, Mother smiled down at her.

月

At school the next day, Beth waited patiently at the gate for Iku until the bell rang. There were things she wanted to talk about.

But Iku never arrived at school. Not on Thursday.

* * *

It was a little after noon on Thursday, by M's reckoning, when they finally came to talk to her. Her wrist-pad would have told her exactly, but they had taken that away from her. She had not fought too hard. She could make a new one, if she needed to.

She had been held for the last three days in a comfortable room that she could almost have mistaken for a hotel, though it had been a long time since she had seen one of those. The door was locked, naturally, but there was a large picture window so she could look down across the city. It had changed a lot in the two decades since she had seen it last.

Much more interesting to her than the view was the viddy set. They had had no reason not to give her one, she supposed; they had probably not even thought about it. But she had spent most of the last three days in front of the set, watching avidly.

Much of what she saw was trash, of course: soap operas, detective shows, meaningless dramas, children's programs laden with advertising for the latest toys. But it was all useful; she drank it in voraciously. She had been a prisoner down in the Council's dungeon for a long time, and while she had been able to deduce certain things from the demands they made of her, still she was twenty years out of date. That was a long time, in a rapidly developing era. She had no interest in the stories she watched now, but the cultural context they gave her was exactly what she needed. Every new program was a fresh glimpse of the way the modern world worked.

One show did make her pause. It was an anime, apparently aimed at young teens, called 'Queen Serenity and her Senshi'. She watched it all the way through, stunned, and then laughed and laughed and laughed.

News programs and documentaries were more directly useful to her, of course: up-to-date information about what was happening in the world around her. She was in the middle of one when the Sankaku arrived.

There were six of them: four men and two women. She gave a little nod as they came in; she had made a bet with herself that the number of people would be a multiple of three. Two representatives from each clan; it seemed that they took the division seriously. They even stood a little apart from one another. That was useful information, too.

"Good afternoon," she said politely. "Can I help you?"

It made them pause, as she had intended. They recovered fast, though. "That remains to be seen," said one of the men, a man in his thirties with a clear, open face. "What should we call you?"

"Oh, just 'M' would be fine, dear," she said easily. "Or you could say 'Emma' if you prefer." Before he could answer, she looked around the room and added, "Three sides to the Sankaku, hmm? Shinpo, Niji and Paradise clans. Well, Shinpo and Niji are clear enough. Weren't the old Rainbow and Progressive Parties in opposition, back before the Act of Amalgamation created the Serenity Council in '13? The only one I can't work out is the Paradise Clan."

She had struck gold, she saw at once. The consternation in their faces was almost laughable, it was so easy to read. One of the men recovered a little faster than the others and said, with a growl, "You know too much."

"And still in opposition today, I see," she said with a nod. "Oh, don't start posturing, dear, it makes you look smaller. Why don't we sit down and chat, instead?"

She took one of the three chairs before any of them moved, sitting down primly and favouring them with a smile. After a long delay, the young man and one of the women took the other chairs. Two more of them sat on the bed.

One of the men who remained standing, a massive bear of a man with a rich, deep voice, said, "Are you really who you claim to be? One of the Council's secret brain trust?"

"Well, I could claim to be anybody, dear," she said, enjoying herself immensely.

"I know that," he said, imperturbable, and her respect for him rose a notch. "But I want to hear you say it."

"All right, then. I am not _one_ of the Council's secret brain trust. I _am_, myself, the brain trust. Just me." She paused for a heartbeat and added, "But you already knew that, of course. Otherwise you wouldn't have come here; not the leaders of the Sankaku."

"The device you brought with you was…persuasive," he admitted.

"Have you broken it yet," she asked, "taking it apart to see how it works?"

The bear chuckled. "Not quite. Young Nakada, the man you approached, stopped them tinkering too much. He says he has an idea of how you did it."

"Does he, now?" she murmured. "Yes, I thought he had a brain or two. I picked the right one to go to."

One of the women, a petite lady in her fifties who must have been stunningly beautiful in her youth, said, "And how did you know who to go to? Why have you come to us at all?"

"Oh, that's easy. I cracked your comms net quite some time ago, dear. Just like you cracked the Opal net, a few days ago."

A fresh shocked pause. "The Council's cracked our communications?" said the one who'd tried to threaten her. "Shit, they'll be on us like a ton of bricks."

"If they've done it at all," said the small lady sharply. "We have only her word for it."

"No, not the Council," said M. "Just me." She let that sink in and added, "I haven't told anyone about it, you see. Any more than I told them when you cracked OpalNet. That was quite cleverly done, by the way."

"Why not?" asked the bear. "Why _have_ you come to us?"

"To help you," she snapped back. "They held me prisoner for years, down in their little underground tomb. Threatened me. Made me work for them. Did you know that Monday was the first time in twenty years that I've seen the sun? Well, no more! You want to bring them down—and that suits me fine. I want—I want my revenge. And if you want help, there's no one who can do it better."

There was a short silence in the room. She had let her mask drop, M realised; they had glimpsed the rage in her. Well, so be it.

"Perhaps," said the bear at last. He gave her an unexpectedly penetrating look, but only repeated, "Perhaps."

"Can you crack the rest of their internal communications?" asked the one who'd threatened her. There was still doubt in his voice, but his eyes gleamed with a hint of excitement. "Can you help us make our own net more secure? Can you—"

"Why think so small?" said M, allowing a patronising tone to enter her voice. "I can do ever so much more for you than that."

He hesitated. Before he could reply, the small lady said sharply, "I believe we'd like to see some proof of that."

M smiled at her. "Of course, dear. I'll be happy to show you what I can do." Her smile widened. "And then there's a little something that you can do for me in return."

* * *

Wright Mark took the long route home from school. The long route, in this case, led directly away from the apartment he shared with Liam, and into the Hissomori district. He got off the bus and walked for a short time, stopping at the entrance to a narrow, tree-lined street that wound its way along the side of a hill with an ancient name.

He stood there for a while, staring down the street, without moving. Miyo was there, not far away. Miyo who was now calling herself Hiyama Makoto…and who, beyond all probability, had turned out to be Sailor Jupiter herself. He had heard it clearly, and Liam had confirmed it later.

And she was just down the street there, not two minute's walk. Now that he knew her assumed name, she had been easy enough to find. He hovered there, on the brink of advancing…trying to convince himself that she would not turn him away.

A Senshi. He had been trying to woo a Senshi. One of the legendary Serenity's own protectors! No wonder she had turned him down so firmly.

"Man," he said with bitter self-mockery, "when I screw up I don't do it small, do I?"

And yet, not so long ago there had been times when she had seemed, well, not uninterested. Up until his mistake in letting out the news that she had been disowned, the two of them had gotten on rather well. Had that all been a pretence, then?

The truth was, he had set his sights too high; that was all there was to it. And it was not as though he did not have other options. That girl he had met the other day, Beth; she seemed nice enough, friendly, and approachable. And at least she was normal.

And yet, there he was, looking down the street toward Makoto's house; and when he turned away at last, it was not because he had given up. It was because he was not ready. Or she was not. Or maybe both of them. Certainly not because his courage had failed him at the last moment.

* * *

How to probe the mind of a monster?

Lady Blue knelt in utter darkness. The attention of the Master was elsewhere, for now, and in its absence the shell of Araki Mamiko, Number Twelve, was little more than an empty husk. Eyes wide open, staring unblinking at nothing, she rested on cold stone in a chamber far below the surface of the earth. Her body was utterly motionless, save for the slow, shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. (Even sustained by the Master's power, breathing was needful.)

Somewhere not far away in the blackness, a great dull, cold light beat and pulsed. Even though asleep, the Master was still active.

The Master slept, yes, but not as common humans sleep. His mind worked without ceasing. It was dulled by his slumber—numbed, yes, and limited—and so he could focus his power only in small ways, on a few things at a time. But that would change soon enough, when he found his complement. When he attained completion.

Centuries before, when the human queen died, duality had been shattered in a manner that defied comprehension. It had been a crippling blow to the Master. Freed after so very long, only to be cast into shadow once more! Shut away from the light he so craved. It was a thing not to be tolerated.

So the Master worked; and so, until his attention fell on her once more, Lady Blue waited. She would be called back into action soon enough. She was his most potent tool; his link to her was far clearer, more direct than that to any of his other playthings.

In the meantime she felt no frustration, no impatience. She felt nothing at all, for she had not been ordered to feel. There was no need for feelings. No need for anything.

Except that now and then, far off at the very limits of her perception, there was a voice.

It came and went, a still, small voice in the back of her mind: ghostly, evanescent, like a guttering candle a thousand miles away. She ignored it, naturally, but it never stopped. Sometimes it spoke to her, begging her to answer, pleading with her to say anything, anything at all. At other times it only wept, or cried out for help. Sometimes it sang old, half-remembered songs in a thin, mad voice. It was irrelevant, of course; it was a distraction. But in her quiet moments, when the Master looked away from her, she could not altogether shut it out.

_Please,_ it whispered, _oh, please, just let me go. I'll do anything, I swear. Just let me see the sky again. It's so dark in here…and cold, and so alone…_

On and on it droned, an unending stream.

_Please, you don't know what it's like. When you send your power through me it's like fire, you can't imagine the pain, it's burning me alive, but so cold, so cold…Oh, please, please, I'm so sorry I didn't obey. I'll do better, I swear, but please, just let me go…_

On and on.

_Let me eat something, at least. Oh, God, anything. I haven't eaten anything in weeks, don't you understand? Not since you converted me. Your power is all that keeps me going now, and it hurts so much, and I'm so hungry, so hungry…Oh God, it's driving me mad. You don't know what it's like…Please, please, just feed me…let me see the sky, and feel the sun and be warm again, just once…oh, please…_

On, and on, and on. Never ending. Number Twelve, Lady Blue, knelt in bottomless darkness and listened to the voice in her head, and waited for the Master's call. And she felt nothing. Nothing.

* * *

Friday came and went, and the evening found Dhiti sitting at home, feeling scratchy and disgruntled. She was all alone, except for an equally disgruntled cat. She had called Makoto and they had chatted for a while, carefully skirting the subject of Suzue, but then Makoto had rung off, citing homework, and now Dhiti had nothing to do. She had already finished all her own homework, out of sheer boredom.

She was not much inclined to try chatting with Artemis. She and the cat had made up, eventually, after the argument on Monday, but all the same, there was a new rift there, one that was going to take a while to mend.

Sometimes she wondered why she bothered. Why couldn't he just go back to living with Makoto, now that she wasn't being chased away from home all the time? But reluctantly, Dhiti had to admit that she would miss him if he left. A little.

Sighing, she picked up a book from the shelf by her desk and flipped it open: an ikebana text for her Monday evening class. She read for a few minutes, muttering keywords to herself, and then tossed it aside with a scowl. It had only been a few classes, but she was already getting bored with flower arranging. The basic ideas were easy enough to grasp, but to go beyond that took patience and insight and a little genuine artistic talent…and she had never been strong on patience.

She could feel Artemis' eyes on her.

There had to be _something_ worth doing on a Friday evening. But she didn't want to go out, and she wasn't in the mood for company any more.

Ignoring the eyes boring into her back, she went to her closet and started to rummage around. It was pretty full; there was a treasure trove of junk piled up in there, from old hobbies she'd picked up and abandoned. Sometimes she wished she could just throw her henshin wand in with the rest, and move on. Not very often, but sometimes.

Her hands fell on a small black case, slightly dusty, and paused. She pulled the case out and laid it on the desk, opening the lid. Her trumpet lay inside, shiny and silver. How long had it been since she'd gotten it out?

She looked at it for a moment, and grinned. Lifting the instrument from the velvety lining, she found the mouthpiece and fitted it, and then raised it to her lips. Her first try brought a clear, unwavering note, and she grinned with pleasure. _Now, let's see…_ A moment to recall the sequence of valves, and she managed a creditable scale. Not too shabby! And there ought to be some sheet music around here somewhere—

"Why are you running away?" said Artemis from behind her.

She froze for an instant, and then laid the trumpet down. No escape, then. Was this how it was going to be? "I'm not running away from anything."

"Aren't you? Isn't there a job you're supposed to be doing? Looking for the enemy with your computer?"

"I'm not running away from anything," Dhiti repeated. Before he could answer she went on, "Artemis, am I a clown?"

He did not answer, and she turned to face him at last. He stared at her, head cocked to one side. "What are you talking about now?" he asked.

"I told Queen Serenity that I was a Court Jester. I said that I act the way I do to jar people out of their complacency; stir them around a bit, make them look at things differently. Tell the truths that nobody wants to hear. You know, the whole Shakespearean clown thing."

He gazed back up at her, still uncertain. "That's…an interesting idea," he said cautiously. Then: "Is it true?"

Dhiti grinned. "Nahh, I think I just can't resist the opportunity. But still—" She glanced down at the trumpet in its case, sobering. "I wonder, sometimes. If I'm…you know. Shallow."

Involuntarily, he laughed. "Shallow? You? If I've learned anything about you over the last few weeks, it's that you go all the way down. You…you just wear shallowness as a mask." He gave her a quizzical look. "What brought this on? What's the matter?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just that—" She broke off, frowning as she tried to work out what she wanted to say. "Artemis, you're lived so long. Is there…is there ever enough _time_?" she asked at last. "To do everything you want? To see everything, and go everywhere…"

He leaped up onto the desk and sat, tail curled around him, gazing at her with an unexpectedly sympathetic expression in his eyes. "No," he said gently, "never." Then, as she grimaced and looked away, he added, "But that's not a bad thing, you know. That's a triumph! That's the universe telling us that, no matter how far we've come, there's still room for us to grow…"

She did not look back at him, and after a little he asked, "What's really wrong, Dhiti? What's bothering you?"

Still she did not answer. Her head felt as if it were wrapped in a blanket. She stood by the desk, one hand on her trumpet case, and tried to remember how it had come to this. Standing here with the world closing in on her; trapped by obligations, she who should have been as slippery as ice.

And the other thing, the one she did not want to talk about; the one she had been trying not to think about all evening. In the end, there was no escape, was there? Nothing to do but admit it all.

"Those computer scans you want me to do," she said in a dull, heavy voice. "The ones I've been avoiding. The truth is…"

"Yes?"

"I'm not running away from anything, Artemis. I'm not. The truth is, I'm trying to get my courage up to _stay_." She made a face, unable to meet his eyes. "The truth is, I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" he asked.

"I don't know. Isn't that stupid? I don't even know." With that, finally, she looked up and gave him a twisted, mirthless grin.

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Tell me about it."

"I can't. That's the problem. It's exactly like I said at the meeting: I scanned a piece of that crystal weeks ago, and the computer gave me a lot of crazy talk about spiderwebs and shellfish. And daimons. That was all. And yet—"

Dhiti broke off and walked quickly over to the window, staring out at the fading evening sky. She felt as if she were suffocating, suddenly. It was hard to think. She was sweating, and her head was beginning to ache.

"And yet," she said in a low voice, "there was something there. Something about what it said, and it…it _pulled_ at me, do you understand? Inside my head. As if—on the other side, just out of reach, there was something…old, and…and horrible, and I couldn't get away—"

"Hush," said Artemis, and she fell silent. She turned away from the window, and was startled at how dark the room seemed. Only a few seconds had passed, surely, while she stood looking out, but it was as if full night had fallen in an instant. The only light remaining in the blackness was the glint of the cat's eyes, sharp and bright; and above them, glimmering faint but clear, a golden crescent.

At the same time, though, another, deeper shadow disappeared. The cloud within her mind was gone: broken first by the sound of his voice and dispelled altogether by the light from the moon symbol on his forehead. Dhiti took a deep breath, and felt the last cobwebs wash away from her. She shook her head, walked across the room and turned on the light.

When she turned back, the cat was studying her quizzically. And—silly!—of course his crescent-moon symbol wasn't glowing. Why would it have been?

"Tell me," Artemis said, his head cocked to one side, "how long have you been having these psychic flashes?"

"Er…what?" Dhiti blinked at him. "Psychic? Me? Have you been at the catnip again?"

"I could be wrong," he admitted, "but I don't think so. I ought to ask Seki to take a look at you, but…well, never mind that for now. Meanwhile…do you feel up to trying that scan, now?"

"The scan. Right." She thought about it, and to her surprise, she found that she did feel up to it. Whatever it had been, that shroud of doubt over her thoughts, it was gone. She shot Artemis a curious glance and said, "Yes, I do. How did you know?"

"Mm. You learn a few things over the years. After all, I've _lived_ so long," he said dryly.

"Oh, don't get your hairballs in a knot. I still don't think we're going to find anything useful; it'll be a lot of random garbage again."

"Well, try the ID card first, then."

"Okay, okay." Dhiti opened her desk drawer and found the card wallet. With no more than an instant's hesitation, she got out the crystal shard as well, laying them both on the desk. Then she pulled out her computer and flipped it open.

"Think you can remember how?" asked Artemis slyly.

She glared at him. "Don't you go getting all psychological on me," she grouched. "I'll have you know I've out-psyched cats smarter than you in my sleep."

"You must tell me about it sometime," he purred. "For now, perhaps—?"

"Hmph." She picked up the ID wallet. "I'm starting with that Technical Enfranchisement guy," she said, opening it. "Um, Kasamatsu Amane. I'll try matching him against everything I got from 'M' Division the other night."

It did not take her long. Her computer had stored all the data it had captured when she was breaking into 'M' Division, and there was a lot of it; but even so, scanning through it all took less time than giving the command. "Nope, nothing on that name," she announced. "But that only means he didn't work for 'M' Division."

"Try the organisation," he suggested. "The Technical—"

"—Enforcement Network, yeah, yeah," she muttered, her fingers rattling on the keyboard. With one final click, she sat back, giving him a defiant glance. "But there won't be any—"

She broke off as her eyes returned to the screen, and then sat forward hurriedly. "Well, what do you know?" she murmured. "There they are."

It was a single reference, but it was there. She pulled up the document and scanned through it. An email from somebody she'd never heard of, reporting back on constructing a 'suitable cover for the test subjects'. Now, what was that all about? She frowned at the screen, feeling uneasy once more. _Test_ subjects?

A sudden jolt to her chair made her jerk upright, heart pounding, and she looked around wildly. It was Artemis, of course; he had leaped up onto the seat back and was now peering over her shoulder. She turned away once more, scowling at her own foolishness, and looked back at the screen.

The message came from an address at a system called TENnet. She snorted and said, "Original." But on the other hand…She typed again, and nodded in triumph. There was a regular data feed from 'M' Division to the same place: copies of data from the secret underground lab. She wondered if the crazy old lady had known.

There were screeds of project reports coming back, too. She flipped through a few of them and paused. "Project…Chrysalides?" she said aloud, fumbling over the word, and her uneasy feeling redoubled. One of the reports included a budget sheet. She read through it, noting the equipment that was being ordered, and said, "Artemis, all these chemicals, the sealed vats, the isolation chambers they're building…they're doing some kind of biological experimentation."

"What!" said the cat, and leaned forward to look closer. "Oh, boy."

"Yeah. And look here. These reports are addressed to Chairman Fukuda."

He let out a breath. "Okay," he said. "Hard evidence that the chairman is involved. That's good. But what else? Who _are_ these people? And where? Any hints?"

"And what are they doing?" added Dhiti. She searched again, and shook her head. "There's nothing there. Not in the data we captured, anyway."

"'Chrysalides' is a pretty big hint, anyway," the cat said. "I'd say we've found out who's creating vitrimorphs."

"Yes, but…" Dhiti trailed off, and then flicked back to the earlier email. "Test subjects? And isolation chambers?" Dhiti did not feel uneasy now. She felt sick. "Artemis, I think they might be using living guinea pigs. Human ones."

He was silent for a long time. She glanced up and saw that he was looking away, his eyes closed. At last he said, "We discussed this at the meeting. You knew it was a possibility."

"I know. But then—_who_ are they using? Where are they getting their…their test subjects from?" A pause, and then she added: "Who are we killing?"

The cat opened his eyes and regarded her steadily. "Something else for you to research."

"Oh, damn it, anyway," she swore. "Why does it have to be me with the computer? I hate the things—"

"So you've said," snapped Artemis. "Repeatedly. But you know what, Dhiti? Sometimes we all have to do things we don't like. It's called part of being alive. And from what I've seen, you're getting pretty good at it, no matter what you keep telling us. So why don't you stop complaining and just get on with it?"

He kept his eyes on her, clearly expecting an angry retort, but Dhiti only chuckled. In an odd way, his anger felt…cleansing. And, well…he was right. "Point to you," she said.

Artemis gave her a suspicious look. "What?"

"Hmm. Hot and bothered cat. Point to _me_." Before he could reply, she looked back at the screen and said, "I can't check much more from here; the range is too far to connect to the public nets. I should be able to do it from school tomorrow. For now—"

Her eyes strayed to the side, and all her temporary levity vanished in an instant. She picked up the crystal shard.

"Yes," he said, his voice flat. "Why don't you show me what your computer says about that."

She hesitated before responding. Then her lips tightened. She was as slippery as ice, dammit, and she was not going to be afraid of the boogeyman. Her fingers rattled on the keyboard, and the screen lit up.

Once more, Artemis leaned close to see, and she felt his furry body brush against her head. It was tempting to rub her face against his side, to reach up and stroke him…and again, subconsciously, she was avoiding the issue. She forced her attention to the computer.

It now displayed a maze of little readouts, showing a hundred different analyses of the shard: density, composition, thermographic data, maps of internal cleavage lines, and dozens more. "This is where I started before," she said.

The white cat snorted. "Yes, and I'm sure it would be fascinating to a crystallographer," he growled. "What _else_ did you do?"

"This," said Dhiti, and without hesitation she threw the computer into its associative mode.

Obediently, the screen began to fill with data. It went more slowly, now, and some of the specific examples that appeared were different—but the result was the same unsettling mixture that she had first seen weeks before.

__

GUGGENHEIM MUSEUM

A photograph of a massive, spiralling ribbon of a building.

__

SPIDERWEB

A delicate lace of webbing, sharp against a dark background.

__

SHELLFISH

A picture of a chambered nautilus.

__

LEY LINES

A wide-angle photograph of a rural countryside, and superimposed over it, a network of weaving, interlocking lines. And as she watched, Dhiti felt the first renewed stirrings within her, of something akin to dread. The pictures touched something deep inside her. Lines of power, a mesh that covered the world…

__

CONSTELLATIONS

A glittering star-field, its patterns strange and unrecognisable. The stars, she knew, as they had been long ago. Unthinkably remote—but still here, a memory buried in the crystalline fragment of something monstrous.

__

ABORIGINAL ROCK ART

Eerie, haunting symbols painted on a rock face: long, winding serpents and lizards; and figures that might have been human, but they were distorted, oddly misshapen. Almost alien.

__

HUMAN DNA

A vast, double-spiralling molecule.

The search seemed to end at this point; the screen grew still, and Dhiti released a breath that she had hardly realised she was holding. Perhaps this time…But then, as before, the display flickered again and the computer added one final, damning image.

__

DAIMON

She looked away from the screen with a scowl. There it was, as plain as day. And yet, something whispered inside her, there was more. More, and worse.

With a sigh, she glanced back at Artemis. He was watching intently, his head cocked to one side. He didn't get it. She could see in his face, that he didn't get it.

"Odd," he said at last. "Very odd. Spirals, and…something else. It's as if—"

Nimbly, he leaped from the back of her chair over to the desk, and studied the computer with care. "What did you do, to get this data?" he asked. Dhiti showed him, and he nodded. "Of course," he said, sounding relieved. "You asked it for an associative search. It's gone right though its whole memory and looked for _anything_ that matches any part of its scan. Naturally, it found a lot of meaningless similarities—"

"I know that!" Dhiti snapped. Unaccountably, she was shivering, though the evening was warm. She held up one hand and stared at it. Her fingers were shaking. She could not stop it.

She closed her hand, clenching it into a tight fist. "I know that," she repeated. "But they're all the same, don't you see? All those associations it found. It's showing us the same thing, over and over again."

Artemis stared up at her. "The same? What do you mean?" He paused. Then, quieter but more intense: "How are they the same, Dhiti? What are you seeing?"

"I don't—it's not—" She broke off, frustrated, unable to describe what she was feeling. "It's as if they're all…I don't know. Reflections," she said at last. "Like…aspects of the same thing? Oh, damn it, that doesn't even make sense!"

He studied her face, his eyes narrowed. Then, slowly, he said, "Oh? I'm not so sure." After another moment he looked back to the screen and said, "Can you get any more details on these matches?"

"Uh. I think so." Dhiti looked at the list of pictures, shrugged, and touched the first one: the strange, spiralling building. Immediately, a message appeared: CASUAL SIMILARITY ONLY. She glanced back to Artemis, and winced at the movement.

"Sometimes a spiral is just a spiral," he murmured, shaking his head. "Try the others." Then, suddenly, he said, "No, wait. Try—try the Daimon."

She studied him with a wary eye. Did he feel it, too? Or was he just impatient to move on? She grimaced, and then turned to obey. At her touch, the screen lit up with a new message.

__

ANALYSING GENETIC FUSION ANALYSING DNA CODING ANALYSING INTRON CODING

The display halted and Dhiti stared at it. "What's all that supposed to mean?" she complained. "What's an intron?"

Artemis huffed. "It's—" But he broke off as the computer spat out a new set of messages.

__

VARIANCE DETECTED ORIGIN UNKNOWN (INSUFFICIENT DATA) TIME INDEX: -3.5E6 +/- 3.9%

Another tiny pause. And then:

__

ANALYSING GENETIC DRIFT VARIANCE DETECTED ORIGIN UNKNOWN (INSUFFICIENT DATA) TIME INDEX: -1.58E14 +/- 14.8% WARNING: VARIANCE DETECTED IN BASELINE WARNING: BASELINE MAY BE CONTAMINATED

Dhiti read the messages over, three times. "Okay, I give in," she admitted at last. "I didn't follow any of that. Artemis, does all this mean anything to you?"

The cat was silent for a little, his eyes narrowed, never leaving the screen. Finally, glancing up at her, he said, "I think I'm starting to see why you were so bothered, before. This is…quite disturbing."

"But what does it _mean_?"

"A daimon," he said carefully, "was a fusion: a human being, or something else, merged with an egg that had been specially grown in a laboratory and filled with the power of Master Pharaoh-90."

"I knew that," Dhiti snapped. "Well…sort of. But so what? Are you saying your Master Pharaoh-90 is coming _back_?"

"No! Or at least…well, I hope not. But you asked your computer to match its scans of the crystal against everything else in its memory, and it came up with a daimon—a fusion of human with alien. The same way that these vitrimorphs seem to be a fusion of human and…something else."

Dhiti's eyes returned to the screen. "A genetic fusion," she said, and could not restrain a shiver. "But with what?"

"'Origin unknown,' it said," he reminded her. "But what puzzles me is that mention of genetic drift. Your computer looked way back, and…it seems to be suggesting _two_ events. And the second one is—well, that time index. How long ago is that?"

She tapped out a new query; but even as she did so she had a sinking feeling that she knew the answer. "One point eight million years," she answered. "Plus or minus fifteen percent. And that matches with—" Making a face, she tapped another entry on the screen, the picture of the star-field, and a new set of messages scrolled up.

Artemis' eyes widened. "Wait a minute, the _stars_ as they were two million years ago?"

She scowled at him and said, "Yeah. Interesting coincidence, huh?"

"Damn it," he swore. "Those monstrosities are genetic fusions, but they must have been made recently. But your computer is saying it's finding something else, a long way back. What—?" He broke off, frustrated. "What _happened_ back then?"

"Who knows?" said Dhiti. She meant it to be a flippant comment to annoy him, but it came out wrong. This whole business really was a little disturbing. If she thought about it, she could almost see it in her mind's eye—

_A hollow; a muddy waterhole, somewhere in a broad, rolling savannah. Dusk, and the wind soughing through distant trees. Close by, the sound of furtive movement. Cautious, wary-eyed, the ape-folk have come down to drink. They cluster around the water, dipping their faces into it and slurping noisily, grunting and hooting to one another. Then, all at once, they grow very still. Something is happening; something unnatural. It is black night, but there is a light in the heavens: not the familiar sun or moon, but something else, a sickly pale colour, growing brighter and brighter with terrifying speed. The ape-folk eye each other, looking around with mounting fear—and then they flee, barking and screaming, as the sky opens up and something dreadful descends into their midst…_

—But that was fantasy, a dream she'd had weeks ago, and she had other things to think about. As she had expected, the analysis had not solved anything; instead, it had only raised new questions. And one in particular.

"What did that last bit mean?" she asked. "About the variance in the baseline?"

Artemis eyed the screen with obvious distaste. "It means you were right," he replied. "Your computer's giving you a lot of crazy talk."

"But what does it _mean_?"

He sighed. "It means that, once it allowed for genetic drift—the normal pattern of evolution and human development—it found the second instance of fusion in its baseline as well—that is, in the sample that it was comparing the crystal against. And in fact…" He hesitated, then suddenly asked, "Can you compare the two variances?"

"What? Um, I'm not sure. Let me see." Dhiti fussed with the keyboard for a minute, and then made a pleased sound. "Ok, let's try. But I don't see what you're expecting to—"

The little screen lit up with an answer. It was short, and very clear.

"Not two different events," whispered Artemis. "One and the same—but separated by two million years."

"Wait. You're saying that this enemy has been around for two _million_ years?" Dhiti paused. "And then it got released in Crystal Tokyo until Queen Serenity stopped it, and now it's starting it all over again—for the third time?"

The cat did not answer for some time. At last he said, "It kind of looks like it, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Dhiti nodded, then reached out and turned her computer off with a decisive click. She put it away, and then dropped the crystal shard and the ID wallet in her desk drawer.

As she did so, without looking around, she said, "Artemis? About that baseline. Who would it be taken from?"

His reply was just as casual. "Oh…I expect it was somebody back in the Silver Millennium. Or maybe Mizuno Ami." He paused once more, and then added, in a quiet voice, "Or maybe you."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's what I thought." Dhiti went to her bedroom door and opened it. Glancing back over her shoulder, her face perfectly composed, she said, "I'm just going out for a little walk. I'll see you later. Okay?"

月

But the walk did nothing to clear her thoughts. She spent the rest of the evening in a quiet, thoughtful mood; and in bed that night, hours later, she dreamed once more.

She saw again the plain, and the waterhole. It was darker; the last of the sunset afterglow had faded, but somehow she knew that it was the same evening. Despite the darkness, she could still make out a few details. Down in the hole, in the middle of the water, something baleful pulsed and glowed. Around the edge of the water, she could see that the apes had returned. Most of them stood motionless, staring into the light; but a few of them moved back and forth in eerie unison. It might have been only her imagination, but she almost thought that they looked different—twisted, changed in some subtle way. One approached the glowing thing and laid something on it, as if making an offering: a half-eaten animal, something like a squirrel.

Then suddenly, in perfect silence, a new light spilled across the plain, and she saw a figure walk toward the waterhole: tall, erect, and unmistakably human. A woman. She wore a costume that, while it was older and less stylised, was recognisably a Senshi uniform; and, in the last moments before the dream faded, Dhiti saw that her long hair shone green-black in the fading light, and she carried a long staff that was shaped like a giant key.

* * *

Nanako's pocket comm trilled, and she jerked upright with a yelp. She had fallen asleep on the floor, next to a pile of schoolbooks. She had also, she saw with a scowl, drooled on her homework. Well, there wasn't much on that page; she could copy it again.

The comm trilled again, and she snatched it up. "I'm right in the middle of my homework, 'Toku-chan, so—"

"Nanako-san?" said a high-pitched voice. "Is that you?"

Nanako froze, pulled the comm away from her ear and looked down at the screen. The caller name was blinking in regrettably clear characters. She sighed and said, "What do you want, Hideo-chan?"

"You have to help her, Nanako-san! You have to!"

"Uh…" Nanako paused, her mind blank. "Who are we talking about, exactly?" she asked.

An instant later, before he could reply, she realised exactly who he was referring to, and her momentary confusion became something more like dread.

"Kodama-san," he answered, sure enough. "Nanako-san, I think they hurt her real bad this time. She didn't go to school again today and when we checked, she was still in the—"

"Wait," Nanako ordered. "Wait a minute." She rubbed her forehead, and tried to get a grip on the situation. She did not need this. She was barely awake, and she had homework to finish, and—and oh, God, what did he know about Iku?

A maelstrom of images and feelings boiled through her mind. As always, there was the guilt. Nanako did not _know_ that Iku's family were beat—that they were mistreating her; not for a fact. She had suspected, yes, especially after she managed to drag the story of Iku's puppy out of the girl. But that alone had been appalling enough to make Nanako shy away. Bad things might be happening, but Iku never said a word about it, and Nanako—Nanako was afraid to learn more.

As simple as that. Nanako was afraid. She shied away from even thinking about the matter. The idea that patient, silent Iku was going through _that_ was chilling; it knotted her stomach and made her want to throw up. But doing something about it—that meant having to learn more; it meant having to be _involved_ in the…the thing; and that simply terrified her.

For a long time she had nursed a silent hope that somebody else would notice and do something. A teacher, perhaps; weren't teachers supposed to keep an eye open and report any suspicions? But Iku was so good at going unnoticed, keeping to the back and not attracting attention—for all the world as if she didn't believe that she deserved to be noticed—and the teachers at Kawasemi High, like teachers anywhere, had their hands full coping with the louder, more boisterous students. Iku simply slipped through the cracks. Often, it seemed as if she wanted it that way.

Back when Nanako had started to have her first uneasy suspicions about the timid girl who was always alone and never spoke up for herself, she had salved her conscience by drawing Iku into her circle and telling herself that at least the girl had a couple of friends now. So Nanako was doing her bit, and that was all right, surely? She was…she was doing _enough_, and so she didn't have to do any more; she didn't have to look any closer. She was safe. Surely.

Sometimes, though, usually at night, and usually after Iku had once more been away from school for a day or two, a little voice out of the deepest, most private recesses of her mind would say to her: _You could do something about this. You could help her. All you'd have to do is speak up._ And always, Nanako would turn away in dread, and look in the other direction. Afraid to see. Afraid to help. And knowing that no amount of pleasant chatter at lunchtime at school could make up for her silence.

Damn it, Beth was supposed to have done something; she had given the girl enough hints. But as usual, Beth had missed the point…and whose fault was that?

"What do _you_ know about it?" she asked Hideo, her voice thick with bitterness.

"The Senshi Watch," he answered, oblivious to her tone. "We've been keeping track of both the known Senshi, of course—Kodama-san and McCrea-san. We've set up shifts who—"

A little revolted, she listened to him rattle on, forgetting his worries as he boasted about his importance. This was what she got for leaving the kid to his own devices: a squadron of prepubescent boys spying on older girls. It was almost funny, in a sick sort of way.

"So if you're doing so much," she interrupted at last, not trying to hide her contempt, "why haven't _you_ done something about it?"

He fell silent. When he spoke again, she heard the worry and indecision in his voice once more, and regretted her anger. He was, after all, trying to help. "Well—" he said. "It's—you know."

"Yeah," she said dryly. "It's very 'you know'. And I _do_ know."

"But," he protested, "we have to do something! You—you haven't seen what they do to her, Nanako-san. They—"

"Stop," she snapped. He broke off, sounding astonished, and she took a second to get herself under control. She might be able to handle this after all. Yes, perhaps there was a way. "Leave it to me, Hideo-chan," she ordered. "I'll deal with it. And after that…"

She broke off meaningfully, and after a moment Hideo said, "Yes?"

"After that, we will talk about why you've been telling other people who Iku-chan and Beth-chan are…won't we?"

"I haven't told anybody!" he yelped. "I didn't say they were Senshi. I just called them…um, suspects."

Suspects. Nanako felt like grinding her teeth. He was twelve, she reminded herself. Twelve, and a very intelligent idiot.

"Yeah, well, we'll talk about that," she said, her voice sharp. "Right now, I have to move. I'll see you tomorrow, Hideo-chan…won't I?"

She shut off the comm without waiting for a reply, and grimaced. So much for her homework. Now she had to go out start meddling in things, and it was all Iku's fault. She would have hoped that someday the girl would appreciate it…except that, if Nanako had her way, and if she were very lucky, Iku would never find out that she had been involved at all.

月

Half an hour later she stood outside Beth's house, wondering how to proceed. Her watch read after ten, and it would look pretty odd if she just knocked on the door and asked to talk to Beth.

It wasn't Beth she wanted to speak to, anyway.

She thought back to the day, nearly three weeks ago, when she had come come here for the first time. She had wanted to speak to Bendis then, too. Funny how long ago it seemed. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the layout of the house. Let's see, Beth's room had been to the side, so her window must be…that one. The light was off.

She glanced around to check that nobody was watching, and then slipped in through the gate and around the side of the building. The window she hoped was Beth's was a little above eye level. She stood up on tiptoe, holding the ledge tightly, and managed to peer in.

The room inside was darkened, but some light came in through the open door. She could see a desk piled with books, a bed…and a small, dark shape curled up on the pillow. Yes!

She tapped on the window, and saw the shape twitch. Then, letting her breath out, she let herself relax back to the ground and waited.

Nothing happened for a while, and after a minute she tapped again, a little harder this time. Almost immediately a furry head appeared at the window, peering out. She waved to the cat, and saw Bendis stiffen, her ears flattening back. Very clearly, Nanako mouthed the words, 'I need to talk to you,' and pointed to the street.

Bendis hesitated. Nanako nodded quickly, pointing again and trying to let some of the urgency show in her face. The cat wavered, making Nanako want to scream in frustration, and then finally turned and vanished from the window.

With a muffled sigh of relief, Nanako crept back through the front gate and out into the street again. She stopped by the trees where she and Hideo had spoken to Bendis last time, and waited.

The cat took some time to arrive, and when at last she appeared around the side of the house, Nanako was almost bursting with tension. The two of them eyed each other before Bendis finally spoke.

"Well?" she snapped. "What now?"

"Hey," Nanako said, nettled. "There's no need to be rude. I just want to help. Like last time, remember?"

"Yeah, right." Bendis glared at her. "And yet, here you are, sneaking around behind Beth's back again! I've heard all about you and your secrets, Higoshi Nanako. If you're so eager to help, why haven't you told Beth-chan that you know about her?"

"Why haven't _you_ told her about me?"

They stared at each other. Stalemate.

"Look," said Nanako in a low voice, "this has got nothing to do with me and Eitoku-kun. I really did come here to help, I promise. It's about Iku-chan."

That seemed to throw the cat. "Iku-san?" she said, surprised. "What about her? And why talk to me?"

"Oh, come on. Haven't you noticed anything odd about her?"

Bendis snorted. "What's to notice? She's pretty hopeless. Her powers aren't much, even when she can get them to work. She's…oh, I don't know. Like a mouse, just waiting for m—for someone to pounce on her."

Charming. It wasn't a big surprise to Nanako; Iku seemed to attract that kind of attitude from most people. But she had hoped for more from the Senshi and their allies.

"I think she's being abused by her family," Nanako said.

"Uh—" Bendis paused, suddenly uncertain. "Do you mean, like, she's the runt of the litter?" she asked cautiously. "And not, her parents want to eat her or something?"

"_Eat_ her?" Nanako said, horrified. "Why would they—I—You know, Bendis, humans don't actually do that." After a moment, honesty made her add, "Well, hardly ever."

"You never know," muttered Bendis in a sulky voice. "I've seen humans do some pretty weird things."

"Oh, and cats are so normal," scoffed Nanako. "What, you really think eating your young is so—look, this isn't even what I wanted to talk about! You need to do something about Iku-chan, remember?"

"Me?" Bendis gave her an odd look. "I'm just a cat, remember? Why don't _you_ do something?"

"Because—" Nanako came to a dead stop. That was supposed to be what she was _doing_. "She's one of you," she managed at last.

"Ah," said Bendis. "And you're only her friend. _I_ see."

"That—that's not fair."

"Wasn't supposed to be," the cat said, her voice flat. "You want me to do your dirty work for you, right? Or me and Beth, I suppose. Keep your own hands clean." She snorted. "Some friend _you_ are."

Nanako started to answer, a protest of innocence of some kind, but then cut it off. What was the point? "Think what you like," she said icily. "At least I _noticed_ something was wrong."

She turned her back on Bendis and walked away, ignoring the indignant sputtering behind her. For a few moments she thought the cat might come after, but after a little she realised that she was safe.

Safe. That was an odd word, she thought a few minutes later, sitting in a bus as it rumbled toward home. Was that really the way she felt? Safe, now that she was…well, removed from the problem once more? It bothered her, for no reason that she could name.

It was true, though; she was confident of that. The—the problem—was dealt with, now. Bendis would be collected and reliable, in a way that Beth had never been. She would make sure that somebody did something. Surely. Surely.

One last thought came to her, troublesome, as she prepared for bed ten minutes later. She had dreaded the idea of speaking to anybody about this, dreaded it enough to make her throat close in hidden panic at the idea. Yet she had been able to talk to Bendis, where she could not have spoken to a human. Now, what sense did that make?

The idea continued to bother her as she drifted off to sleep.

月

Bendis watched the girl leave, and muttered a few choice words under her breath. Well, here was a fine kettle of fish! And what was _she_ supposed to do about it?

'Abused by her family.' What did that mean, anyway? Were they making her do all the housework? Spanking her for being naughty? Bendis' experience of human woes was pretty limited, but that didn't sound all _that_ bad.

The best thing, she supposed, was to go over to Iku's house and find out exactly what was happening. There was just one small problem with that: she had no idea where Iku lived.

Bendis glanced up at the sky. It was getting late.

She shook her head and turned back toward the house, pondering ways and means. She was the smart one, after all. She was bound to think of something.

Tomorrow.

* * *

The next day was Saturday: a half-day at school. It was also the last day of term before summer break, and there was a lot of suppressed excitement among the students. Dhiti took advantage of it; she arrived early, for once, and went to the school library. It had computers attached to the public nets, though students were only allowed to use them under supervision. That was all right, though; she was not planning to touch them.

She made her way down to the rear of the lobrary, close enough to the computer carrels to be within range, and studied the line of bookshelves there. They held books about Second Dark Age artwork in Americay and Grande Brasile. She decided that nobody was likely to disturb them over the next few hours—especially not today.

She glanced around, making sure that nobody was watching, then pulled out the Mercury computer and switched it on. The screen lit up and she touched a single key. The little screen paused, and then showed a message: _Inductance Link Established_.

With a nod of satisfaction, Dhiti touched another key, starting a search that she had prepared the previous night. Then, checking once more that nobody was around to see, she slid the computer behind the books on the top shelf, and walked out of the library.

Her search for the mysterious Katamatsu and the elusive TENnet would be limited by the speed of the library's net link, so it might take some time to run. Meanwhile, highly satisfied with her own cleverness and a job well begun, Dhiti went off to find Kin and head to class.

月

As it turned out, the search took just under two and a half hours. Her computer notified her of its success by sending a message to Dhiti's Senshi communicator.

She had not anticipated how loud the alarm would seem, coming in the middle of a dense mathematics class. (Even in the last class before the holidays, her math teacher refused to slacken up.) She had also not anticipated being half-asleep at the time. The fact that half the rest of the class were either watching the clock like hawks, or were half-asleep themselves, only made it more dramatic.

When her watch started beeping, Dhiti shot to her feet with a wild shout, thrashing her arms around and knocking her chair to the floor. "Yes! Coming!" she yelled, scrabbling at her watch.

Then, far too late, she remembered where she was. Slowly, she looked around.

The entire room was staring at her, open-mouthed. The students who sat closest to her were leaning back, as if to get as far away from her as possible. Up at the front of the classroom, the teacher had frozen in mid-equation, a thing previously unheard of. Today would become legendary among future generations of students. And across the room, damn her, Kin was miming laughter and applause.

There was a long silence. Very long. Dhiti stared around the room and tried to think of something to say.

The teacher cleared her throat. "Sharma-san," she began.

Dhiti's watch beeped again.

She slapped her hand to it, hitting the _acknowledge_ button, and gave the teacher a big, wide smile. "Sorry, Ihara-sensei," she said. "Gotta go. I, uh, left a cake in the oven." She hovered for one moment more and then, unable to help herself, added, "It's chocolate." Then, before she could think of anything to add that would make the situation even worse, she said, "Bye," gave everyone a little wave, and ran out of the classroom.

月

She retrieved her computer and retired to a quiet spot in the library where she could study the results without being seen.

Slightly to her surprise, the search for TENnet had been the easiest part of the search—though once she saw why, she decided that she should have seen it coming; the camouflage was ridiculously transparent. "Technical Enforcement Network," indeed! Somebody had a sense of humour.

The search for Kasamatsu Amane had taken much longer, and looking back, she was actually surprised that it had succeeded at all. But the photograph her computer had finally come up with was clear enough, and she remembered the face, just before his monstrous transformation. They had not even used a false name.

She looked at the source of the data, and shuddered. It made a brutal kind of sense.

Other aspects of the puzzle, though, did not. The unbelievable openness of it all: the title of the "Technical Enforcement Network", for example, or the way Kasamatsu had been walking around openly, not even in disguise, and using his own name. Dhiti was no fan of spy thrillers, but even she could see how bad an idea that was. It was as if the whole scheme had been cooked up by amateurs, people who were playing secret agent games.

Or, then again, it might be a expression of contempt. _Here we are,_ it seemed to say. _Now what are you going to do about it?_

Either way, Dhiti knew exactly what she was going to do about it. She glanced up at the wall clock, and saw that there were only five minutes left until classes ended. Impatiently, she waited the time out. Then, as the bell rang and the halls started to fill with the sound of excited boys and girls released for their holidays at last, she started pressing buttons on her communicator.

月

They met at Seki's house once more. Beth was the last to trickle in, a little out of breath. She raised her eyebrows when she saw that Bendis was there already.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I was almost home when—" She gestured toward her communicator.

Ochiyo nodded with a faint frown. "You haven't seen Iku-san, have you? I tried calling her three times, but she never answered."

"Maybe she was in the bath," muttered Makoto.

"Um," said Beth. "She wasn't at school today. Or the last couple of days, actually. I've been meaning to ask her about something, but I keep—" She paused, then added with a shrug, "She's always been kind of…sickly, I guess. She was away last Monday, too."

Bendis cleared her throat. "Um, Beth-chan," she said hesitantly. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

Beth shushed her, impatient. "Later, Bendis-chan." She looked over to Ochiyo and Dhiti. "So what's up now? I, uh, sort of had plans for this afternoon."

"Didn't we all," murmured Suzue. Makoto shot her a look, but then turned away again without speaking. The two were seated as far from each other as possible.

Artemis cleared his throat. "Dhiti made a breakthrough last night," he said. "We learned some things about the vitrimorphs—and got some hints about how they're being made."

"Two breakthroughs," said Dhiti. Her face was unusually solemn, almost grim. "I did some more scans on the public nets this morning. I cracked it, Artemis. _I know where they're making vitrimorphs, and who's doing it, and how._" She paused, and with a twisted grin that was a ghost of her usual smirk, added, "If anyone wants to shower me with accolades, now's the time."

She waited, but nobody took her up on it. Liam, who was perched on the arm of a chair at the back of the room, said, "Now I think we'd better hear the details." His accent was back, Beth noticed.

Dhiti told them. She talked about the records she had copied from 'M' Division, and how they had definitely linked Chairman Fukuda to the enemy; about a mysterious organisation called TENnet; and about her scans of the crystal shard, and the strange hints at a connection to the unimaginably distant past.

When she finished, Beth found herself shivering. "So what happened, then?" she asked. "You're saying that somebody…did something to that man Kasamatsu-san, or to his ancestors I mean, two million years ago? But…that's not possible, is it? There weren't even any human beings back then. Uh…were there?"

"There were apes," said Dhiti, and shivered herself.

"Apes?" repeated Beth, confused.

"The ancestors of humanity." Dhiti's lips tightened. "Savage. Primitive. Unable to resist."

"I…I don't understand."

Liam said, slowly, "A genetic fusion. That's what your computer said? I remember Ami mentioning something, back during the Fall, about a genetic propensity of some kind. But it was tenuous, and she was always too busy to follow it up. I wonder if…"

"What are you thinking?" asked Ochiyo.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again his gaze was hooded, distant. "Two million years ago. The ancestors of humanity would have been primitive apes back then, as Dhiti says. But it seems as though something happened to them. Something _came_, some dark agency, and…and tampered with the inhabitants. Altered them. Used them as the subjects of some monstrous experiment—one so dreadful that the echoes of it survive even today."

"Spirals," said Artemis quietly.

"Yes. Spirals, and primitive masks, and other symbols. A race memory, buried in the genes. One that might emerge, now and then, from the subconscious—find expression in artwork or dreams. Even the very image of the stars overhead when it happened!" He shook his head, looking grim. "It's a horrible thought."

"All right," said Makoto. "If you say so. It's…disgusting, I suppose. But so what? What's that got to do with anything _now_?"

"Don't you see?" Liam turned toward her, his eyes dark and troubled, and shook his head once more. "After two million years, it would have spread. Surely that's obvious. Two million years of humanity expanding, breeding and interbreeding…" He glanced around the room, meeting each of their gazes, one by one. Then he looked away, as if ashamed. "It would be in all of us by now, to some degree. All of us. It would have to be. Every person on Earth, everyone in this room, would be descended from the victims."

There was a long silence. Then Makoto said, "That's sick."

"Yes."

"Yes," repeated Dhiti in a whisper.

"And…you think it's the same enemy?" asked Ochiyo. Her face was pale. "Planting the seeds of something long ago, and back now to finish the job?"

"It fits, doesn't it?" said Suzue. "During the Fall, they released something that had been trapped in the ground for two million years. It's still out there…waiting for us." Her own expression was stern and bleak. "So that leaves two obvious questions. No, three."

"What questions?" asked Ochiyo, obligingly.

"First: what was it doing to those apes? And, by extension, to us? Second, what can we do about it?" Scowling, she lifted one hand and studied it, as if trying to probe it for some inner flaw.

"And third?" prompted Seki after a moment.

"Hmm? Oh. Third—what trapped it down there in the first place? I doubt that there were any Sailor Senshi around, two million years ago." Suzue snorted.

Dhiti looked up from her computer and opened her mouth, as if about to speak. Then, with a tiny shake of her head that was barely visible, she subsided once more.

The room was silent for a minute. At last Beth said, half to herself, "None of this makes any sense."

"Perhaps," said Ochiyo thoughtfully, "this Lady Blue of yours might know the answers."

"True," agreed Artemis. "Which, I suppose, brings us to Dhiti's other announcement." He blinked at Dhiti, and added, "See if you can spare us the drama this time, please. I think I've heard enough dramatic news for today."

She made a face back at him. "Spoilsport," she said.

"Well?" demanded Makoto. "Come on, Dhiti-chan. Don't make us wait."

"Patience, Hayashi, you'll give yourself a hernia." Dhiti glanced around, grinning. "Okay. I was looking for this TENnet, and it was pretty easy to find. It's a group called the Tenshin Institute. They're a private laboratory and research think-tank, but they do a lot of work for the government." She glanced down at her computer and added, "Mostly for 'K' Division, as a matter of fact."

"Another link to Lady Blue," said Artemis slowly.

"Uh-huh. And this 'Technical Enforcement Network', too. Now that really _is_ a transparent cover."

"It fits, I suppose," mused Seki. "The Tenshin Institute? I've heard of them. They're not exactly secret; they do a fair bit of government work, right out in the open. But—really? It seems so…obvious. Are you sure it isn't misdirection to cover for someone else?"

"That's what I was thinking, too," said Suzue.

Dhiti shrugged. "Me, too. What can I say? It's where everything points. My computer couldn't find anything to contradict it—and I looked, believe me."

Artemis said, "If you think about it, it kind of makes sense. They didn't have any strong reason to try to hide, after all. This is probably some geeky scientist's idea of a clever joke."

"Or another trap," said Suzue.

There was a brief pause. Everybody looked at her. "Um, what makes you think that?" asked Ochiyo.

The girl gave a shrug. "They keep on pushing us, don't they? Raising the stakes, a bit at a time. If I were them, I'd be laying subtler traps too. Planting hints for us to follow, so they can tell how far we've come by the directions we take."

Another pause. Then Dhiti said, "Okay, that's disturbing."

"Huh," said Ochiyo at the same time. Suzue glanced at her and Ochiyo added, "Sorry. I was just thinking about a lifetime of paranoia, and the directions it starts making your mind go."

Suzue gave her an irritated look. "I'm not paranoid," she said. "And they _are_ out to get us."

Beth laughed. Then she realised that Suzue was not joking, and stopped laughing in a hurry. She felt like echoing Dhiti's words from a moment ago: that had been disturbing.

Liam cleared his throat. "We're getting off-track. Again," he said. "Dhiti-san, it's all very interesting about the Tenshin Institute, but it doesn't actually get us anywhere."

"Actually, it does," said Dhiti. "It gets us the source of the vitrimorphs." She paused, glancing around the room with a very self-satisfied smirk: unable, no matter what Artemis had said, to resist the dramatic moment. "The laboratories at the Tenshin Institute," she said into a sudden silence, "are where the vitrimorphs are being made."

Seki caught her breath. "Really? You're sure?" she asked.

"Pretty sure," answered Dhiti. "I went looking for Kasamatsu Amane, you see…and I found him. Here—look." She turned her computer screen to face them, and everyone clustered around. The photograph was quite clear. So was its source.

"A prison record?" said Makoto, frowning.

"Yes," said Dhiti. She was no longer smiling. "Sixteen months ago, he was sentenced to eight years in prison for armed robbery. He should still be there. But we know differently, don't we?"

"And another one of them, at the Olympus the other night," put in Seki grimly. "That 'S' Division man said something about…one of the men, I don't remember his name, was supposed to be in prison."

"Right. And look here." Dhiti scrolled the display down and pointed to a note at the bottom of the record. "Amane-san was transferred, nearly six weeks ago. No note of where; just that he was being sent…care of the Technical Enforcement Network."

Seki stifled a curse.

"He wasn't the only one," Dhiti went on. Her face was a blank mask; her voice, utterly flat. "I found plenty more, when I checked: dozens of them, men and women, all prisoners. And they're—" Her voice broke, just for a moment. "_They're still doing it._ Another pair were transferred, just two days ago."

"Hold on," said Liam. He, too, wore a grim frown. "You're suggesting that—"

"Suggesting, hell. I'm _saying_ that the Council are taking prisoners and sending them to the Tenshin Institute to be turned into vitrimorphs." Dhiti drew a long breath. "And then sending them out against us to get killed."

"No," said Ochiyo. Her voice was gentle. "We talked about this already. Do you really think we're guilty, Dhiti-san? Or is it the Tenshin Institute? Or the Council?"

Dhiti looked away. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "At the very least, we're participants."

"Then we need to do something about it. Don't we?"

Artemis looked up, suddenly alarmed. "Don't tell me you want to go on the attack again!" he exclaimed. "Not after last time—please!"

Ochiyo gave him a defiant stare in return. "All right," she said. "You tell me, then. What should we do? Sit idle when more people are being corrupted? We really would be guilty then, Artemis-san."

He hesitated, agonised. "But what if you're wrong?" he insisted. "What if it isn't them?"

She narrowed her eyes, for just an instant, and then glanced over her shoulder. "Dhiti-san, how sure are you about this?" she asked.

Dhiti gave her a bleak look in return. "Pretty sure."

Ochiyo nodded, turned back to Artemis, raised her eyebrows…and waited. The cat writhed under her gaze, trying not to meet her eyes, and did not answer. She lifted her head once more and scanned around the room. "Seki-san?" she asked. "Endymion-sama?"

Liam pondered for no more than a fraction of a second. "Check them out," he said, "but quietly. If it's true—then do what you need to." His accent was gone again. "I'll go along, of course," he went on, giving her a faint smile. "After all, if Sailor Moon is there, how can Tuxedo Kamen stay behind?"

"I'll be going, too," said Seki with a grimace.

"You what?" Makoto's head whipped around, her stare incredulous. "What the hell are you talking about? You can't—you're not—"

"Spare me," Seki replied, her scowl not fading. "I'm not planning to join in if it comes to a fight. I'm not a fool. But _somebody_ there ought to have a level head…and Liam-kun is going to be busy."

"But—but—"

Ochiyo caught Suzue's eye, and sighed. "Do these things always get this complicated?"

月

Once the decision was finally made, things began to move faster. Twenty minutes later, they were on their way.

Those minutes were not without further argument. Seki made a halfhearted attempt to persuade them to wait until evening, at least, but she had little hope that they would agree. Dhiti used her computer to check the Tenshin Institute's location—squarely in the middle of an industrial district, business hours Monday to Friday only—and even the arch-conservative Artemis reluctantly agreed that it should be safe enough. Seki could only shake her head and accept the decision. She could see the truth easily enough, if Artemis could not: Ochiyo had tasted blood again, and as before, the others were falling neatly into line.

She gritted her teeth and went along with it. If only Ochiyo were not so _certain_ that she was right all the time! Usagi had been the same, though in quite a different way. It made both of them impossible to argue with.

With a speed that was almost bewildering, she found herself talked into providing transport. The Institute was on the other side of the city: too far to walk, and nobody wanted to attract attention by running there in broad daylight, in Senshi form. Seki's car was small, but it could fit four of them if they squeezed; the others would simply have to use public transport. There was a train station only a few minutes' walk from Seki's house.

Just as they were heading out, there was one final interruption. The comm buzzed, and Makoto, who was nearby, answered it automatically. She snapped "Hello?" impatiently, then listened—and froze. "Fujimaro?" she said in a very different voice.

Seki, listening, saw her face—the sudden vulnerability there—and suddenly understood. She had not met Makoto's younger brother, but she had heard his name a number of times in the last weeks. Makoto tried hard to pretend that she did not miss her family, but looking at her now, Seki could see how much of a pretence that was.

"Yeah. Of course I did," said Makoto into the commset, and turned a little away from the other girls, who were watching her curiously. Her face was beginning to screw up in something like pain. "Yeah. Uh. Now really isn't a good time, actually. No. I'm sorry. It's kind of hard to explain…"

Seki hesitated for a second, and then started to quietly shoo the others outside. She followed them, wondering how she was going to explain this, and found that she did not need to say anything. Dhiti did it for her; she simply looked around the group and said, "Her brother"—and nothing more. Seki saw the ripple of understanding go through the others—they all knew the story about Makoto's family by now—and looked at the dark-skinned girl with fresh interest. _So, she can be tactful after all, when she wants to,_ she thought. _Interesting._

Two minutes later the door opened and Makoto emerged. Her face was set and expressionless. She glanced around at them all and said in a flat voice, "Let's go."

They went.

月

The Tenshin Institute appeared, at first glance, to be a very ordinary two-storey office building near the edge of the industrial district across the Ara river; but it was attached via a covered walkway to a second building, longer and taller, that looked for all the world like a giant warehouse. For all its height, though, it had only a single row of windows, near the top. Dhiti, paging through the information she'd pulled down into her computer that morning, announced that this was the Institute's research laboratory building.

She and Makoto exchanged glances. Makoto said, "I bet I can guess what one of their research projects is."

"Gee, you think?" snarked Dhiti. "That wasn't on the public nets, but it's a pretty safe bet."

"So what are we waiting for?" demanded Ochiyo. "Let's go!"

"Hold it!" Seki called out before any of them could move. "Please!" she went on more quietly. "At least do a scan before you go in. Check if there's anybody inside."

Dhiti paused. "Um," she said.

"Hey, that's a good idea," said Beth. "Why didn't we try that last time?"

Another pause. Dhiti cleared her throat and started to redden; and then, unexpectedly, Suzue came to her rescue. She said, "I expect she was more concerned with trying to get through the alarm systems."

"Oh, right," Beth answered, nodding. "I remember."

"Yeah," said Dhiti gratefully at the same time. "That was it." Then she blinked. "Hey, wait a minute. That really _was_ it."

"Okay, okay," said Ochiyo. "Just do the scan, all right?"

"No, I mean, that actually, genuinely was the real reas—Look, never mind, okay? Just skip it. Scanning now." A little disgruntled, Dhiti began to manipulate her computer. Seki hid a smile. She noticed, not for the first time, that despite her complaints Dhiti's hands flickered over the device with no hesitation.

"Right," Dhiti announced a few seconds later. "I've got people in a number of offices in the front building, but the warehouse is empty. No signs of life at all. We should be clear to go."

Ochiyo beamed. "At _last_," she said, and without further ado she produced her henshin wand and cried out, "Moon prism power, make-up!"

Seki made a face. "Headstrong," she muttered under her breath. Then she turned away so she would not have to watch the other girls as they followed suit. Even now, it still hurt.

A few seconds later, the group moved off, closely followed by Tuxedo Kamen. Artemis gave Seki a slightly guilty look, then went after them, with Bendis on his heels. A silence fell. Seki was left alone, again.

"Naturally," she grumbled, and then laughed at her own foolishness. What had she expected, after all? To join in the fight against any vitrimorphs the girls met? That was crazy.

She leaned against her car door, the sun warm on her back, and tried to rein in her patience as the minutes ticked by. Join in? No, she was here to try to keep the Senshi out of trouble if there were any ordinary people around. That was all. But even that wasn't going to be a problem; after all, Dhiti's scan had already showed—

Wait a minute.

Dhiti's scan had showed no life signs at all. But if there were prisoners inside that building, being warped into crystal somehow, then they should have shown up. The life signs might have been twisted, distorted, but they should have been there—in spades.

So either there were no vitrimorphs here at all, and the girls were following a wild-goose chase, or…

"Trouble," she snarled, and took off after the rest of them at a dead run.

月

Sailor Venus followed the others, lagging behind a little. She was too distracted to keep up. Something had gone wrong; she'd felt it the moment she transformed. Half of her was missing.

She was still trying to analyse the problem when the others stopped, and she almost walked into Jupiter's back. They were on a narrow open staircase that ran up the side of the big building, near the rear. The door at the top had a mechanical lock, and Venus wondered if they would have to break it down. To her surprise, though, Sailor Mercury turned out to be good at picking locks. Who would have guessed? She kept her visor down and referred frequently to her computer as she worked, but she had the door open within three minutes. Venus made a mental note to add some books on lock-picking to her reading list, and then forgot it again almost instantly.

Inside the door was a very ordinary-looking corridor that ran the length of the building. Windows lined one wall; the other wall had a double door, with a small window in each half, every few metres.

Sailor Moon cocked her head to one side, considering. "Okay," she said. "Check the doors, everyone." The group began to spread out.

Venus let herself lag a little behind the others. Every few seconds she paused, closing her eyes and concentrating, but the result was the same each time. She felt…wrong. Disconnected. Empty.

It had started the moment she changed to Sailor Venus. In the aftermath of transformation she had stood there, henshin wand still raised, and waited for the usual rush of exultant self-confidence and wild strength. Waited, she now knew, for the spirit of Aino Minako to take over.

But instead, there was nothing. She did not feel any different. Oh, she was in her Senshi uniform, yes, and the other physical aspects were there: she was a little taller, a little bustier. But inwardly, mentally, nothing was right.

She did not _feel_ like Venus. She felt like Beth. And she did not like it.

Tense and uneasy, she followed the other Senshi, still trying to think what could have happened. In her dream, the night after meeting Queen Serenity, Lady Aino had been on the point of telling her something. Was it about this? Had Lady Aino been trying to warn her?

She was passing a door. Venus looked through the window, but saw only a long, narrow room lined with shelves and workbenches. She moved on.

What was she supposed to do without Minako guiding her as Venus? Alone, with nobody but boring, hopeless old McCrea Beth to rely on? Could she even function as a Senshi at all? Could she fight? Because Beth had never been a fighter. Beth was the one with her books and her daydreams and fantasies and her soppy poetry about Eitoku. And what use was any of that?

She almost ran into Jupiter's back for the second time before she noticed that the others had stopped once more. They were at the end of the corridor, looking at one last door. Unlike the rest, this one was of heavy steel, and there was a very visible security lock and keypad.

Once again, Mercury was pulled to the fore. She looked the door over, grumbling, and then started to tap away at her computer. Several minutes passed, and Venus began to fidget. She looked around and saw Bendis and Artemis nearby, watching, and bent to pick up Bendis.

"Nothing so far?" whispered the cat.

"I haven't seen anything," replied Venus truthfully.

"Look," Bendis said back in a low voice, "there's something I need to tell you, about—"

Venus shushed her, eyes returning to the door. But then, spurred by the cat's voice, she began to fall into a brown study again. All those lessons in cat-fighting Bendis had given her: could she still use them? Or was it Lady Aino who had learned them, so that if Beth tried it on her own, she would only make a fool of herself—

"Ah!" said Mercury in a pleased tone. A moment later there was a beep, followed by an audible click, and the door eased open a crack. Mercury turned to wink at Venus. "Fire control systems, check," she said with a grin.

Taken by surprise and only half sure what the girl was talking about, Venus nodded in return. Thankfully, Mercury seemed satisfied. She turned back to the door and pushed it the rest of the way open. She had to exert herself; as the door moved, they could all see how thick and heavy it was. Nevertheless, it turned smoothly and without a sound.

Sailor Moon took the lead and they ventured forward. A short corridor lay behind the door, leading deeper into the building. Then it gave way to an open metal staircase, leading downward. Moon went cautiously down a few steps—and then froze and retreated. She turned to face the others, holding a finger up to her lips.

"Bingo," she said in a low voice.

Soundlessly, a ripple of excitement ran through the group. The eight of them looked around, exchanging nods and grins. Venus' heart began to pound; her doubts were forgotten for the moment. Then, moving silently, five Senshi, two cats and a masked man started forward once more.

The staircase descended ten or fifteen steps, ending on a catwalk that ran high along the upper wall of a vast room. They paused there, involuntarily, to look around and gape.

_You could fit a football pitch in here,_ Venus thought, awed. The chamber must have occupied the entire bottom two or three levels of the building. It was easily ten metres high. There were no windows; instead the interior was bathed in a harsh white light from the brilliant glowing panels that covered most of the ceiling. The catwalk where the Senshi stood circled the walls; here and there, narrow metal stairways led down to a spotless grey tiled floor.

On the floor of the chamber was an array of metal cylinders: fifteen of them, in five rows of three. They were massive things: nearly three metres tall, and half as much wide. Each was surrounded by a semicircle of equipment: racks of controls, readout screens, and less-identifiable devices. A dizzying array of pipes, tubes and cables ran to the top of each cylinder, descending from a framework of girders that crisscrossed the room. Narrow walkways extended from the catwalks out into the network of pipes.

Ominously, at the far end of the room, a sixth row of cylinders was under construction, and there was room for a seventh.

The room was virtually silent, but for a faint hum of air conditioning and a regular, high-pitched hissing sound coming from somewhere in the network of pipes. There was a strange, acrid smell in the air.

"We need to get down there and check what's in those things," whispered Tuxedo Kamen.

Moon gave him an incredulous look. "Can't you guess?"

"Of course. But we need to be sure," he insisted. "Sailor Moon, you can't afford to be so headstrong, not when so much depends on this."

She huffed. "Fine," she snapped. "We were going to go down anyway." After a heartbeat, in a disgusted tone, she added, "_Father_."

"Ouch." Shaking his head, he retired to the back of the group. But, Venus noticed, he was smiling.

Moon started forward once more, her scowl fading to a determined look of concentration. As she reached one of the staircases leading down to the ground, she gestured toward the others: _spread out_. Jupiter gave her a quick nod and moved on past, heading further around the catwalk. Unsurprisingly, Mercury followed her. Venus paused, having a sinking feeling that she knew what was about to happen. Sure enough, Uranus' lips tightened, and she turned to head in the opposite direction. As she went, she threw one piercing, defiant glance at Venus.

Sailor Venus breathed a silent sigh. It was tempting to stay out of it. She didn't need to pick sides; she could stay with Moon and Tuxedo Kamen quite easily. For heaven's sake, if she did have to choose, her sympathies were all with Jupiter anyway. But…

But somehow, she found herself following Uranus anyway. Why, she could not have said. Perhaps it was out of some lingering sense of loyalty, or an instinct for teamwork. Or perhaps it was simply that she couldn't stand to watch the girl go off, all alone. Because Uranus would do it, Venus was quite sure of that; she was the stubborn sort, and she was clearly not going to give in. So maybe that was the reason. Or if not that, then maybe…well, maybe a lot of things. In the end, grumbling to herself and more muddled than ever, Venus trudged along the catwalk behind Uranus and tried to remember why she had ever agreed that coming to this building was a good idea in the first place.

So, moving quietly but quickly, they filed down to the floor level in three groups: Moon, Tuxedo Kamen and the cats; Jupiter and Mercury; and Uranus and Venus. Sailor Moon reached the bottom first, and the clack of her heels on the floor tiles seemed startlingly loud.

Uranus muttered something under her breath. Venus could not quite catch what she said, but it sounded something like, "…easy."

From this distance, they could all see that the cylinders were not plain metal. Broad sections on the surface of each one were grooved and fitted into recessed tracks. They looked to Venus as though they could slide open, like enormous shutters. As she was still taking this in, Sailor Moon walked boldly up to one of the cylinders and touched it. Then, one eyebrow raised, she leaned close, pressed an ear to it, and listened. "There's something inside," she announced in a low voice. "It sounds kind of…liquid."

"I don't like this," said Tuxedo Kamen. "It feels wrong."

"Yes," whispered Uranus.

"Wrong?" Moon stared at him. "What are you talking about? This is exactly what we were looking for. It's proof that we were right! And you were just saying, two minutes ago, that we needed a closer look!"

"Yes," he began, "but—"

"Well, look!" she said. "Here it is!" She stepped neatly around him, bending for a moment to look at the control boards around the cylinder. Then, without hesitation, she reached out and pressed a button.

With a low, faint rumble, the shutters on the cylinder rolled apart to reveal a heavy glass window. The cylinder was a tank after all, and they could all see the thing that floated inside. Involuntarily, Sailor Moon let out a cry of shock and stepped back.

The tank was filled with a murky liquid. Thankfully, this concealed some of the details; but even so, the form in the centre was all too visible. It might, perhaps, have once been a human being, but now there was little humanity left. There was no way to tell if it had been a man or a woman; it looked as if it had been ripped apart and then welded back together, almost at random. Where there should have been a torso covered with smooth skin, instead they could see a tattered mass of mottled flesh, twisted and mangled into a network of bizarre shapes. From a dozen places, it wept streamers of a thick black fluid. Exposed loops of ropy organs hung out of it, and here and there, great knots of some dark, shapeless material were fused into the flesh, glinting dully in the light. One arm was missing; the other seemed to have been stretched out fantastically, like a long, spindly spider's leg. The last metre or so was bifurcated, and the two ends were twisted, boneless things, devoid of anything like hands. Its legs were similar horrors, grotesquely distorted.

Its eyes were open, and it was staring at them.

"Oh, by the Lady," swore Uranus in horror.

"It—it's alive," choked Moon. "And it's in agony."

The taste of bile was strong in Venus' throat. Even as she watched, unable to look away, the thing in the tank stirred; the ends of its remaining arm twitched feebly, once or twice. That was too much for her, and Venus stumbled away from the tank and threw up.

When she was finished she tried to stand up once more, but her legs felt like jelly. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Tuxedo Kamen, watching her compassionately. For an instant she thought she saw another face behind his mask, a boy she had met a week ago, but then the moment was past, and the masked man was helping her rise.

"Are you all right?" he asked gently.

"Sorry," she mumbled, flushing and looking down. "It's just—that—how can you _stand_ it? It's too…too…" Guiltily, her eyes flashed back to the tank, and then away once more. Another horrible thought came to her. "So many of them," she said in a low voice, waving a hand around the room. "They can't all be like that, can they? Can they?"

A few steps away, Moon and Uranus froze. Almost simultaneously, they looked around, each in a different direction. Then, to Venus' horror, Moon walked quickly over to a second tank and pressed a button on its control board. Her face pale and her lips tight, and she walked stiffly, as if she were struggling to control herself, but there was no hesitation at all in her actions.

The second tank began to rumble open, and Venus turned her head away. A moment later, unable to help herself, her eyes returned to it guiltily.

This one was not so bad. Or, perhaps, it might have been worse; because the transformation of the figure within was almost complete. A massive, hulking crystalline form hung there in the centre. It was turned half away from them, but as the shutters rolled apart and the light fell on it, it turned its head toward them. Then Venus saw the last shred of humanity left to it, and maybe the cruellest trick: for its eyes were still unchanged. They were a clear brown, and they stared at her out of a frozen crystal mask.

It knew what had been done to it, she realised. It knew; and Sailor Moon was right. It was in agony.

Another rumble, and she looked around to see Jupiter at a third tank. She started to cry out in protest—_Stop! No more!_—but it was far too late. Even as the shutters began to part, there came a sudden, heavy thud, and something struck the glass of the window, hard, from the inside. Jupiter leaped away with a startled shout.

This one had just begun to change. It was a young man, naked. The skin over his left shoulder and chest was beginning to darken and pull away from the flesh beneath, and his left hand was thickening into something club-like, but otherwise he still looked human. Human, and in torment. He was in a frenzy; he beat on the inside of the tank, his mouth opening and closing in a silent scream. Was it pain? Rage? A plea for help? There was no way to tell. With a shudder, Jupiter touched the control pad once more and the shutters rolled back.

"This is sick," said Sailor Mercury in a low, breathless voice. Her face was ashen. "I…I never dreamed it could be like…Oh, gods, we have to help them somehow!"

Jupiter made a helpless gesture. "How?" she asked. "How?"

Sailor Moon, looking no less sick, answered. "You know how," she said. "There's only one thing we can do for them, isn't there?"

"You're supposed to be able to _heal_ them!" burst out Venus.

"I wish I could," replied Moon, staring back at her; and Venus saw the sorrow in her eyes. "But how? If I had the Ginzuishou—and if I knew how to use it—but I don't. I'm sorry." She turned back toward the tanks, and a note of grim resolution entered her voice. "But we can stop them hurting, at least."

"No," said Uranus.

"What?" said Moon, startled. "Can you think of another way? Then—"

"It's not going to be that easy," Uranus interrupted. She was looking around the chamber, her eyes narrowed. "Didn't I tell you, before? You think we're going to march in here and destroy them all, just like that? Can't you see it? We've been set up."

Moon paused, just for an instant. She began, "But we _did_ march—"

"Where are the alarms? The guards?" demanded Uranus. "Why hasn't anyone realised we're here yet? Come _on_! They'd never leave something as important as this unguarded!"

"She's right," said Tuxedo Kamen. His voice was smooth, unruffled; but all at once, his posture had become tense and alert. His cane was in his hand, and now he held it like a sword. "We got in here much too easily. It's got to be a trap."

And a voice from above said, "_At last._"

They looked up to see Lady Blue, hovering in midair above them. Her face was alight with mockery and malice, and the jewel in her forehead crackled with power.

"Are these really the best you can come up with, moon girl?" she sneered. "They catch on so slowly, don't they?" Her grin widened. "But that's all right. I'll make sure they get a proper greeting anyway." She lifted a hand and snapped her fingers.

Double doors crashed open, and a pair of vitrimorphs stalked in from each end of the room. And Lady Blue smiled.

"Let's party."

月

Sailor Moon gazed up at the woman floating above her, deliberately paying no attention to the quartet of crystalline monsters marching down the room. She had never seen Lady Blue before, but the woman was unmistakable from the others' descriptions. Moon could almost feel the power radiating from her, cold and malign.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Lady Blue laughed out loud. "You pitiful fool. You don't even know _what_ I'm doing." She made an imperious gesture and the vitrimorphs froze in place, only a few metres away. "I'll tell you one thing, at least. You're here too early. I don't know how you found this place so soon, but I'm afraid we can't quite spare it yet. If you want it," she went on with a sneer, "you're going to have to pay."

The contempt in her voice finally made Moon's temper start to burn. "Do you think you can stop us?" she shouted defiantly.

Another one of those infernal mocking laughs. "Wrong question, girlie. Do _you_ really think you can stop _me_?" Lady Blue snapped her fingers again, and one of the vitrimorphs began to advance once more. "Let me introduce you," she said. "This is Komiya Shingo. He's twenty-two years old, bright, intelligent, with a good sense of humour. He's got a girlfriend that he's planning to marry, and she's pregnant with his first child. Oh…and he's going to kill you. In about thirty seconds." Her grin widened, shark-like. "And would you like to know how Shingo-chan came to be here, moon girl? He was convicted of shoplifting. He was out of work, and he and his girlfriend needed food. They gave him a three-month sentence. Very sad."

Her smile became open gloating. "So go ahead, girl. In the name of the Moon, punish him! Murder him—before he murders you."

Defiantly, Sailor Moon removed her tiara and energised it, ready to throw. The vitrimorph was very close now, and there was no chance that she would miss. It was tragic, anyone would agree, but she had no choice. It was kill or be killed. She had to do it, that was all.

She drew her arm back to throw…and froze. _Murder him,_ Twelve had said. She was about to kill an innocent man. Well, no, not innocent, but…a shoplifter? That was all? He had to die, for _that_?

Her own blithe words of earlier came back to her: _Are we guilty? Or is it the Council?_ And: _We can stop them hurting, at least._ In her mind's eye she saw again the young man in the tank, just beginning to change: the rage and the agony in his face, and the terror. He had known what was happening to him, and there was nothing he could do.

She felt sick. She had been so sure of herself! Now she was certain again: certain that she had been wrong. No matter what they had done, they did not deserve to die.

The vitrimorph was right on her now, its arm raised to strike. Suddenly afraid, Moon fell back half a step, and then half a dozen. And then she felt a hard, unyielding wall behind her, and knew she could go no further. No way out. And all the while, the vitrimorph that had been Komiya Shingo advanced.

There was still time; she could still do it. She could kill him. She could murder an innocent man.

She could not.

She was going to die.

The moment stretched out. She could see every detail, as if in slow motion. The other Senshi, horror in their faces: just beginning to come to her aid, and yet far too late. Tuxedo Kamen, her father in another life, lunging toward her with a soundless cry; but again, much too late. The sallow face of Lady Blue, bathed in the cold glow of the jewel embedded in her forehead, twisted into an expression of avid anticipation. The glossy, translucent crystal of the giant figure standing over her. The light, glinting off its arm as it lifted a fraction higher, and then began to descend. And, just visible through the translucent crystal…something moving, high up above. Then a voice.

"Dead Scream."

And a whirlwind of power that slammed down into the vitrimorph and blasted it into shards.

She had time for one incredulous glance up at the catwalk, at the tall, elegant figure in green and black who stood there, beyond all possible hope, hand still raised in her attack posture. Had an instant to take in Lady Blue's face and see a flash of unexpected pleasure there. Then the other vitrimorphs were charging toward her.

She had no more time to consider. Her nerves were on a knife-edge, and as the crystalline army began to surge forward she released her tiara without thinking. It spun away and carved a chunk out of the arm of another monster. Around her, the other Senshi cried out their own attacks…and, at last, the battle was joined.

月

Seki watched it begin from a hidden vantage point on the catwalk. She had entered the building at a sprint, racing down the long corridor to deliver a warning; but by the time she arrived, it was too late. Lady Blue was already there with a quartet of giant crystalline allies, and there was nothing Seki could do but watch.

Her heart was pounding, her stomach in her mouth as she watched the confrontation below. She saw the vitrimorph advance; saw Sailor Moon fall back before it, unable or unwilling to attack. She saw Lady Blue throw her head back and laugh. And she saw a figure from the ancient past step calmly out onto the catwalk, barely a dozen paces away, and without hesitation raise one imperious hand and fire down into the chamber, blowing the vitrimorph to atoms.

The sight brought a rush of mixed feelings. Sadako had told her that she could still transform, but seeing it for herself was another matter. It was…haunting. Frustrating.

Sailor Pluto, for her part, showed no sign of relief or satisfaction at the destruction she had caused. She turned her head and regarded Seki for a long moment. Then she nodded once, and turned her attention back down into the chamber. Into the arena.

Down below, Lady Blue was staring up at the catwalk. She was not laughing any longer; her face was terrible. As the other figures on the floor of the room surged into action, Lady Blue lifted higher into the air, rising rapidly up to the level of the catwalk. She stopped there, floating a few metres away from Pluto.

The two of them gazed at each other in silence. To Seki, watching, it seemed as if they were ancient Roman gladiators, sizing one another up. Ready to strike.

She wondered if she would survive, when they finally moved.

月

Jupiter dodged a blow and fired another Supreme Thunder at an enemy to her right. All things considered, the battle was going reasonably well. These vitrimorphs were moving scarily fast, but she was almost used to that by now. In addition, both sides were avoiding hitting the tanks. It meant that there was a lot of cover in the room, and the Senshi were able to take full advantage of it.

There had been a bad moment, true, back at the start, when Moon froze, unable to bring herself to fight. Jupiter could not blame her; it was a terrible position, faced with the reality of killing like that.

But then that unlooked-for help from above. Had Jupiter really heard correctly? Could _she_ have come back from the unknown, after so long?

No time to ponder. She avoided another blow by leaping on top of a nearby tank, and firing another shot while she had the good vantage point. An instant later she plunged down to the floor again as a bolt of energy sizzled past, nicking off a lock of her hair.

Off in the distance she heard a shattering sound and a shout of triumph, and turned her head in time to see a vitrimorph reel back, a rose embedded in its shoulder. The same motion brought Sailor Uranus into view, and Jupiter's answering shout of encouragement died stillborn.

Uranus was having trouble, that was clear. Her attack was powerful, but to be effective she had to hold it on one of the crystalline monsters for some time. That was hard to do in a battle like this. Jupiter shrugged and kept moving. She was not quite petty enough—or stupid enough—to wish Uranus bad luck, but Jupiter had her own problems. Uranus would have to fend for herself.

She fired yet another Supreme Thunder and followed it up with a flying kick that caught her target right where her lightning bolt had struck. She was rewarded with a ringing crack, and a wedge of crystal broke clean off the vitrimorph's leg. She grinned as she cartwheeled away from a new enemy's attack. The odds were improving.

月

Venus ducked back behind a tank, heart pounding. All the while as the battle began, she had waited for Lady Aino to take over, for the rush of confidence and the wild, almost manic exultation in her powers. But it never happened. She was alone: she, McCrea Beth, stuck in the body of a Senshi in the middle of a firefight.

At first, all she could do was dodge. She had Venus' quick reflexes, at least, and her hair-trigger constant awareness of her surroundings. What was missing was the will. The drive. The _heroism_.

It took some time before she could work up the nerve to try her attack. When she finally did, as a last resort against a monster that was about to flatten Tuxedo Kamen from behind, she was genuinely surprised that it worked. It seemed that she had all the abilities of the real Venus…except for the mindset.

A roar came from her left, and she dropped to the floor to avoid an energy bolt thrown by a vitrimorph. Without rising, she rolled around another tank, grimacing in anticipation of a new attack that never came. Instead, nearby, she heard Mercury shouting, and the sharp crack as a spear of ice struck home. The sound of the battle shifted, drawing away from her for a moment.

She paused there, kneeling in the lee of the tank, trying to muster the courage to move again. No doubt if she were the real Sailor Venus she would leap up, handspring off the top of the tank, fire a couple of Love-Me Chains in midair to help distract the enemy, and land ready to attack once more. She could picture the moves perfectly; her palms tingled in anticipation. She looked up, eyeing the angles, and even drew herself into a crouch, ready to jump.

But of course she did not move. She was no acrobat, not like Venus.

Thudding footsteps came from nearby. A vitrimorph, drawing closer. The battle was coming in her direction again. She stood, peering cautiously around the side of the tank. Now, what would Bendis tell her to do? Fight like a cat, probably. Fat lot of good _that_ was. And where was Bendis, anyway? She and Artemis had vanished at the start of the fight. Very sensible of them; Venus wished she could do the same.

Why did it have to be so hard to destroy the monsters, anyway? They hadn't been so tough back at the beginning. Back then, all you had to do was hit the third eye. But then the things started coming in all sorts of different shapes, and lately, the Senshi didn't even bother trying. Bringing them down with sheer firepower was easier.

The vitrimorph came into view around the side of the tank, and to her surprise she saw that this one actually _had_ a third eye. Right there, in front of her. And before she realised quite what she was doing—before she had a chance to lose her nerve—she stepped out directly in front of it, aimed, and shouted. "VENUS LOVE-ME CHAIN!"

Love-me Chain. Not Chain Thing.

To her utter astonishment, the chain struck squarely home with a crash of releasing energy, and the vitrimorph froze—and then its entire head shattered into a dozen pieces. A second later, Moon's tiara caught it in the chest and reduced what was left of it to flinders.

Venus was still standing there, gaping, when she heard a cry of warning from nearby, and then the high-pitched chiming of Uranus' Music of the Spheres singing right past her ear, making her teeth ache. Then a heavy pounding sound, directly behind her, as the vitrimorph that had been about to club her down leaped away from the ultrasonic attack.

An instant later, Uranus grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to cover. The two of them stood there for a few seconds, breathing hard: Uranus from exertion, and Venus from the sudden realisation that she had almost been killed.

After a moment, Uranus lifted her head and looked over at her. "You're…not so wild today," she panted.

"Uh," said Venus. "I…"

Uranus gave her a quick smile. "It's an improvement," she said. Then, with a glance around, she nodded and sprinted off once more, leaving Venus looking after her with her mouth hanging open.

Now what did _that_ mean?

月

High above, Lady Blue spoke at last. "Ancient One," she said. All the mockery and savage humour was gone from her voice. There was scarcely anything human left at all.

Pluto stirred. "Am I speaking to a puppet," she asked, "or to the puppeteer?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. One is about the same as the other, with you."

"Of course. You have been hiding from me for a very long time, Ancient One. Since your first betrayal. Why have you chosen to show yourself now?"

"Personal reasons," said Pluto. "Nothing that has any bearing on our dispute."

"Indeed? I wonder."

Seki shifted uncomfortably. She was close enough that Lady Blue could easily have seen her, but all the floating woman's attention was still on Sailor Pluto. "So," Lady Blue said. "Is it time for us to renew our own battle, then?"

"You know better," Pluto replied. "You've sealed me quite effectively. There is nothing I can do to stand against you…at present."

"'At present,'" repeated Lady Blue. "But you are the Lady of Time. You span past, present and future. How widely have you cast your webs, I wonder?"

Her eyes flashed, and the jewel in her forehead began to pulse faster and more brightly. "Admit it!" she barked. "You are the eternal plotter. You always have some kind of plan. Why did you come here? What new twist are you setting into play?"

As she spoke, she reached out and closed her hand on nothingness. Pluto jerked and stiffened. An instant later the Senshi floated up into the air, lifted by an unseen power. She came to a stop within easy arm's reach of Lady Blue, suspended far above the floor below.

"Well?" demanded Lady Blue. "Answer!"

There was a hint of strain in Pluto's face, but she remained impassive. She cocked an eyebrow at Lady Blue and said, "I hardly need a plan. You do enough plotting for both of us." She glanced downward and added, "Besides, the girls are doing very well for themselves without me."

"What?" Lady Blue looked down, and cursed. Only two vitrimorphs were left, and the girls were mobbing them. "Damn you!" She made a throwing gesture with her empty hand and Pluto was flung back, landing heavily on the catwalk next to Seki with a grunt of pain. Lady Blue lifted up a fraction and glided forward, as if to attack; but then she paused. The anger faded from her face, and it became a blank mask once more.

"Well played," she said. "That was the last of my reserves. The facility is yours."

Then something dark and malignant sparked in her eye, and she added, "But not quite yet, I think. There is the matter of punishment. 'Pour encourager les autres.'"

With that she spun about in midair and darted away, dropping out of sight toward the lower room.

Seki rose and ran forward to Pluto's side. "Are you all right?" she asked, reaching out a hand to help the woman up.

Pluto took it and rose, rubbing the side of her head with a distant expression. "She's easy to distract," she said thoughtfully. "That's worth remembering. The human influence, I imagine."

Seki gestured below. "You're not going down?"

"They hardly need any help now," Pluto replied. "And in any case, it really isn't why I came." She hesitated for an instant, and then went on, "This battle is the last thing I've seen. The very last. It doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't look any further into the future than right now. After today, I…" She drew a long breath, then exhaled. "I thought I should come and see it out."

"…Okay." Seki eyed her, not quite understanding. But then she shrugged, and let it go. The enemy's words notwithstanding, the girls should be able to handle it. She stood there at the rail with Pluto, watching it end.

And then, watching it all go horribly wrong.

月

There were only two vitrimorphs left now, and it was obvious to Mercury that they were not going to last much longer. She grinned to herself, marvelling at the turnaround. Not so long ago, a single monster had been incredibly dangerous—just one of them had nearly killed five Senshi at the mall—and yet now it seemed that they were dropping like flies.

What a difference Sailor Moon made.

She fired another Ice Spear at one of the remaining pair, missed, and swore. They were moving so fast! It seemed as though the fewer there were, the stronger they became. That was strange, now that she thought about it. Unless there was only so much power to go around? She'd have to mention it to Artemis later…

She ducked behind another tank, danced around the other side, and used her own enhanced strength to kick the second vitrimorph in the side, rocking it to its knees and making it an easy target for Jupiter, who hit it dead centre in the face. Easy as pie. The sort of stunt Venus usually pulled, in fact, when she was in cat mode. Even as she thought it, she caught sight of Venus, off to the side, firing her chain off and missing badly. Venus had been kind of quiet today, actually. Mercury wondered why.

No time to dwell on it, though. The vitrimorph she and Jupiter were double-teaming was down, but not out. It opened its mouth and fired a barrage of energy bolts, making both of them scramble for cover. By the time they emerged, it was on its feet again, just as fast as before.

Damn it! She had to find a way to make it hold still, even for a moment. Venus could do it, with her chain, but she was pretty off her game today. The alternative was—

Jupiter wasn't going to like this, she thought with a flash of mordant humour.

She looked around and found the girl she needed, not far away, and gestured to her, mouthing the words, "Get ready." At the same time, she threw yet another spear at the vitrimorph, not damaging it but driving it in the direction she wanted. Across the floor, she signalled 'Ready' to Jupiter, who gave her a quick, mystified nod.

The vitrimorph hit the spot she had wanted, out in the open for a second, and right on cue, Uranus' Music of the Spheres struck it from the side. And it froze, just for an instant, the way they always did; the way she had first noticed right back in that battle in the theatre. Maybe it was the ultrasonics, making them vibrate in harmony.

The reasons didn't matter. Before it could escape, she and Jupiter attacked it from either side simultaneously; and under the force of the triple attack it burst into a cloud of shards.

Jupiter and Uranus eyed each other. Then Jupiter deliberately turned her back and jogged away. Damn it.

Barely half a dozen seconds later, they heard Sailor Moon's shout of triumph from the other side of the laboratory, followed by a loud, ringing crack—and the battle was over.

Wrong.

Because here came Lady Blue, swooping down out of the eaves and looking like she'd just eaten a bucket of prunes, and Sailor Mercury just knew that things were about to take a turn for the worse.

月

"A very pretty piece of work," called out Lady Blue with sour derision as she descended toward them. "My compliments to the chef."

"What are you talking about now?" demanded Sailor Moon. She was hot and tired and in no mood for nonsense. "You lost, okay? Accept it."

Lady Blue's lips parted in a twisted grin. "Not so fast," she said. "After all, you can't have too much of a good thing, can you? And there's still room for dessert."

"Wha—?"

Before she could finish, the woman in midnight blue flicked out a single finger. With a crack, something that looked like a spark leaped down toward her. It looked dim and feeble, but when it hit Moon felt a massive shock, blinding, as if her whole body had been struck by some inconceivable hammer-blow. She could not keep from letting out a single, strangled scream of pain. Then her throat locked in spasm; she could not even breathe. Her eyes registered nothing but darkness for a second.

Then the universe came back. She sucked in air through a throat that was suddenly raw. There was a dim, greenish shimmer all around her and she realised that was in the centre of some kind of glowing bubble. In another moment she saw that the bubble was floating several metres off the floor.

She lifted a hand to touch the side, and found that it was slick, hard and unyielding. At the same time, it felt strange under her fingers. Cold, and somehow sickly.

"And you," said Lady Blue, looking down toward the others. "I think we can do without your interference."

Another finger and another spark, and this time it was Tuxedo Kamen who convulsed as he was hit, with a harsh cry of agony. He reeled back and slammed into the wall, then slumped to the floor, limp. His mask and top hat had been knocked away by the shock, and Moon could see his eyes, half-open but unseeing. There was no sign of an energy bubble this time; he simply lay there: stunned, helpless.

"You see," Lady Blue said with deadly calm, "we've the retribution to come, yet. You and your friends have just caused me a great deal of inconvenience, moon girl. Now I think you can stand to lose one or two of them…as an object lesson."

And Sailor Moon watched in horror as, all around her, the tanks began to open.

月

A warning klaxon sounded, somewhere in the bowels of the building, and Uranus tore her eyes away from the energy bubble holding Sailor Moon in midair. Now what?

She was answered as, with a hiss of escaping gases, the front half of the tank next to her jerked and swung open. A wave of thick, dark liquid gouted across the floor and filled the air with a sharp odour, so strong and sickly-sweet that it made her want to gag.

All around her, the rest of the tanks were doing the same. The floor was ankle-deep. Here and there other things, more meaty and solid, spilled out of the tanks too. Uranus stared at them, revolted, and then lifted her eyes once more.

The occupants of the tanks began to emerge.

In a way, the ones that died at once were the easiest to stand: the ones that were far enough advanced in their transformations that they could not survive as humans, but not so far gone that they could exist as monsters. They flopped or slithered to the floor, some in a splash of dissociated flesh and organs, and lay there: a few of them thrashing for a while, others quietly expiring. It was terrible, it was sickening, but she could ignore them; for the others were worse. The ones who were trying to kill her.

The woman, for example, who staggered out of a tank just a few metres away, screaming in a voice still mostly human, but the flesh of her body—and especially her face—ravelled and eroded away to the point where it could barely contain what was within. She came toward Uranus, still screaming as she came, pieces of her falling off with every step, and raised her hands and fired a bolt of energy. It hit Uranus squarely—she was still too stunned and revolted to dodge—but it was so weak that it barely stung. But it drained away whatever life was left in the woman; she seemed to dissolve and wither from within, collapsing to the floor in a wash of tank fluid and blood, and died with a final wail.

There were more like her, ones who killed themselves in an effort to attack. But still, the monster factory had held fifteen tanks, and fully seven of the proto-vitrimorphs survived to join combat. Seven, against four Senshi who could still act.

It felt like murder to Uranus, fighting back; far more than it had against the fully mutated enemy. A sick horror was on her, and every time she struck back it grew worse. She had to keep reminding herself that these people were already dead.

She could not quite make herself believe it.

月

Jupiter was appalled by the new attack, and sickened by the sheer cold, malevolent callousness of it. When the tanks opened, she was torn between pity, horror and disgust at the unfinished, maimed things that came out. She held her fire at first, backing away from them as they staggered forward.

Then they opened fire on her, and her reticence vanished. What had been done to them was dreadful, yes; they deserved compassion, not death. But they were trying to kill her.

She shed no tears as she fought, but she remembered the discussion from the meeting earlier. What was happening here was not their fault, or hers. The Council were guilty; Lady Blue was guilty. If Sailor Moon was to be believed—and Jupiter fervently hoped she was—these damned souls were dead already. And if not…it was impossible to believe they could be healed. Not after what had been done to them.

She had to keep telling herself that.

Still, despite the situation and its moral ambiguity, she actually began the fight with some confidence. She was tired, yes, but these new vitrimorphs were only half-formed. Only a few of them had survived to fight at all. They could not possibly be as strong as the fully formed ones. Their end would at least be quick.

Her self-assurance lasted right up until, as she dodged around a tank to avoid a barrage of energy bolts, she ran head-first into a young man.

His face was twisted with fear and pain. She had just enough time to register that he was naked. Then he lifted his hands to clutch at her. "Mamma, Mamma," he sobbed. "Help me. Oh, Mamma, make it stop. It hurts. It hurts!"

Shocked, she reached out to comfort him, still trying to fathom what he was doing here. As she gathered him in, something nagged at her—and then, almost too late, she saw that the skin on one of his hands was dark and mottled, the bones strangely misshapen. Her mind flashed back to the tank she had opened earlier, and its occupant, and she started to struggle away; but he was crying again, holding her by her uniform collar. "Help me!" he begged her. "Mamma, help me!" He threw back his head and howled, "It hurts. It _huuurRTSSSS—_"

And as his scream rose into an unearthly, deafening wail, she saw his eyes flash green, and a glimmer of green fire growing at the back of his throat; and then a bolt of energy erupted out at her.

Jupiter threw herself to one side, barely in time. The bolt passed down her back, leaving a cut in her uniform and a dark thread of blood. She heard a heavy impact and looked around. The young man was nearby, lying face-down in the muck that covered the floor, spillage from the tanks. Heart still pounding, and throat clenched by a dreadful pity, she stepped toward him. Was he dead like the others, drained and consumed by the energy that had poured out of him?

He stirred as she reached him, and she froze. Slowly, he rolled over and dragged himself back to his feet. Thick blood was oozing from his nose and ears. Then he stepped toward her once more, arms outstretched. "Help me," he moaned. "Please. Oh, please."

Sailor Jupiter backed away from him, her eyes wide. Then, unable to bear it any longer, she turned and fled.

月

Sailor Venus knelt on top of the tank in the far corner of the room, trying to restrain her trembling.

She had thrown up twice more since the tanks opened, dodging a dozen attacks, before retreating, shaking with horror, unable to bring herself to strike back. Monsters she could fight, but these…these were no monsters. They were people; maimed people.

The real Sailor Venus might have been able to deal with this. McCrea Beth could not.

Below her, she watched as the awful, one-sided carnage continued. The proto-vitrimorphs were powerful enough, even half-unformed as they were, but they were simply no match for the Senshi. Uranus and Mercury were fighting back—grim-faced, looking sick as they fought, but they were doing it—and not many of the enemy got up again after taking a single blow.

Murderers. Lady Blue was turning them all into murderers. Venus wanted to cry.

A flickering light drew her attention. Across the room, a bright streamer of energy arced down from Lady Blue's hand to the floor. Venus tensed. What new vileness was the witch up to now?

Nothing seemed to happen at first. A few bubbles floated on the thin layer of scum that covered the floor. Slowly, Venus started to relax. Her eyes flicked to Sailor Moon, still prisoner in the ball of energy that hovered a couple of metres away from Lady Blue. Moon was pounding noiselessly on the interior of the ball. Her lips moved, without sound.

Then Venus' eyes snapped back to the floor where Lady Blue's energy had struck. The liquid was bubbling harder; the surface was beginning to swirl and roil. Something glittered among the ripples.

Something…crystal?

She looked around the room, alarmed. Sailor Mercury was exchanging fire with one of the more completely-transformed enemies. Her face was grim and tired, but she was slowly beating it down. Meanwhile Uranus was up against a monstrosity that still looked half-human. Venus felt sick again just looking at it, but Uranus was gamely battering away at it, apparently trying to knock it unconscious rather than killing it. Off on the other side of the room, Sailor Jupiter had recovered from her panic and was moving forward once more. Artemis and Bendis were perched halfway up one of the catwalk stairways, watching from a safe vantage point. Sailor Moon was a prisoner; Tuxedo Kamen was lying on the floor, semi-conscious. None of them had seen what Lady Blue was doing.

That just left Venus, who was hiding from the battle. Cowering in a funk.

_I can't do this. I'm no hero. I can't._

Her eyes returned to the target of Lady Blue's new deviltry. The whole surface of the liquid around the spot was churning now. More strands of crystal surged up out of the morass, adding themselves to the shape that was forming in the centre. Fragments, Venus realised suddenly. The fragments of a vitrimorph. Being drawn together again…reassembling themselves—

Even as she watched, the last pieces flew into place. A burst of light, white-hot, flared in the centre. And a vitrimorph stood there, glowing with heat where the pieces had fused together once more.

In the air above, Lady Blue threw back her head and let out a wild laugh that sounded like a buzz-saw.

The new enemy looked different than before. It looked as though it were made of knives. Its limbs, its body were jagged: covered everywhere with razor-sharp edges and blades where fragments had not come together perfectly. They made a susurrus of clinking, jingling sound as it began to move. And its face: it was _broken_, crazed, everywhere a maze of mismatched pieces, like a demented jigsaw that had been jammed together by an idiot.

In a sudden moment of foreboding, Venus wondered if the same was true of its mind. Or whatever passed for a vitrimorph's mind.

It almost did not matter. The others were busy…and already, off in the distance, she could see Lady Blue shooting another arc of brilliant light down into the floor. And then another. Again, the liquid began to boil and foam.

_I'm no hero._

Sailor Venus closed her eyes. Reached within herself for the strength that she had once felt in battle, and found nothing. Then she took a deep breath and made her choice.

She leaped from the tank roof and went back to war.

月

Horrified, Seki gestured down into the chamber. "You've got to help them!"

To her surprise, Pluto shook her head. "I'm not here to fight," she said once more. "They have their chance. It's up to them, not me."

"What?" Seki demanded. "They're going to be massacred down there!"

Pluto did not answer at once. "If I join the fight," she said at last, her words slow and careful, "that woman will see it. The Enemy will take action. He'll think he has no choice."

"Are you crazy? What do you think he's _already_ doing?"

The older woman turned her head from the battlefield, looking Seki full in the face. "He's going easy on them," she said. "Still. Even now. It may not look like it, but it's true. He's still unsure of what I can do, so he doesn't commit his full strength. But if I join in—if I go up against that woman—then he'll react. He'll strike hard and fast. And then he'll see how crippled I really am, and he'll have no more reason to hold back. He'll stop hesitating—and there really will be no hope."

"How…crippled you are," Seki repeated.

Pluto scowled and said, "I am…somewhat accustomed to being able to see the future timelines when I fight."

"You can see every attack before it happens," Seki translated, and shook her head. "Yeah, I can see how that could be useful. But now he's blocked you, and you can't do it any more. He's brought you down to the level of the rest of us mere mortals!"

"Yes," said Pluto, her voice flat. "And _he must not know_. Do you understand? If he sees that, if he realises that I can no longer see the future, he will think that he has nothing to fear—" She broke off and looked away again. "They have a chance," she repeated. "They can win this. If they dare."

"That's…pretty cold of you. You're staking their lives on a bluff!"

"Then tell me I'm wrong," Pluto said fiercely. "Tell me you can see more clearly, Rei. If you can tell me that…then I'll do it. I'll fight." Her eyes almost seemed to burn. "But be sure. Be very sure, Hino Rei."

Seki was silent for a long time. Then, in a thick, low voice, she said, "I can't."

Pluto nodded. "I know." She watched for a moment longer and added, "It hurts me, too."

月

The first new vitrimorph took Mercury by surprise, and very nearly killed her before she had a chance to react. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, a dim reflection in the wall of a nearby tank, and started to turn. It moved her just enough that the blow merely ripped her shoulder open, instead of gutting her.

Gasping in pain, she staggered to one side, dropping to one knee and clutching her injured arm. Her good hand came away covered with blood. She stared at it for a fraction of a second. Then, desperately, she lunged out of the way. The second blow hammered down right where she had been. If she hadn't moved, it would have smashed her skull like an eggshell.

She lurched to her feet and sprang away, getting some distance between herself and the new enemy before she paused to look back. She blanched. The vitrimorph looked like a walking razor blade. Where the hell had _that_ come from?

It paused, almost as if it were relishing her dismay. It opened its mouth and let out a weird howl, and started toward her once more. There was something different in its manner, something quite unlike all the vitrimorphs she had faced before. Something almost…avid.

Seriously unnerved now, Mercury fired an Ice Spear at it. The monster did not even try to dodge. Her attack caught it squarely in the chest, sending shards flying in a cloud of stinging fragments. It seemed to pay no attention at all. It gave another howl, crouched down a little—and then blurred toward her.

This time Mercury saw it coming, but still she had no chance to dodge. It was moving so _fast_! Faster than she had ever seen one of them go. It slammed bodily into her before she could begin to react. The impact felt like being hit with a brick wall, driving the breath from her lungs. If she had not just blown half the jagged edges off it, she would have been cut to pieces. Even so, she felt a dozen strands of cold white pain searing across her body. She would have screamed, but she had no breath to do so.

The vitrimorph stood over her, one arm raised, one massive, spiked fist clenched, ready to end her. She could not move. It stared down at her with mad, triumphant eyes, and she could not move. It began its strike.

The lightning bolt hit it from behind; the ultrasonic beam from one side. From above, a chain of glittering gold wrapped itself around its neck, yanking it back. Distantly, half-unbelieving, Mercury realised that she was going to live.

The vitrimorph staggered under the three-way onslaught. Another Supreme Thunder struck home; another Music of the Spheres. It could not dodge. It let out a groan: not with its voice, but the sound of physical material stressed almost to the breaking point. But then its mouth opened. Mercury saw the glow inside and knew that it was going to fire. She was lying flat on her back, helpless to dodge. It could not miss.

Instead she lifted one shaking hand, pointed at it, and rasped out, "Ice Spear."

Her attack caught it full in the mouth, a bare moment before it fired its energy bolt. Solid ice, razor-sharp and so cold that it was hard as iron, slammed home into the middle of the energy ball. It detonated, still inside the vitrimorph's mouth. It took the vitrimorph's whole head with it. A second later, its body followed.

Mercury lay there a moment longer, shaking. Venus and Uranus hovered anxiously in the background. Then Jupiter bent down and reached out a hand to help her up. They stared at each other for a moment, not speaking.

"You know, Hayashi," Mercury said, still panting, "there has got to be an easier way to earn a living."

Jupiter started to grin back; but at that moment they all heard the shout from overhead. Seki's voice, taut with fear: "_Watch out, you fools!_"

The four of them whirled and saw two more vitrimorphs stalking toward them, as brutal and malformed as the last. Mercury felt a ripple of cold fear race down her spine. This wasn't over yet.

Even as she watched, taking in the new situation and bracing herself to begin all over again, she saw a streamer of light arc down from Lady Blue's hand overhead. Moments later, the scum on the floor began to ripple as, unmistakably, the fragments of the enemy she had just destroyed began to reassemble themselves.

No, it wasn't over. It was still getting worse.

月

Jupiter's legs felt rubbery, and her head swam a little when she moved too fast. She should not feel this weak; she remembered being so much stronger. But that was seven hundred years ago and another lifetime, and right now she felt almost dead on her feet; and she had a battle to fight: one she must not lose. Only she was not quite sure, any longer, if she could win this time.

She sneaked a look at the others out of the corner of her eye. Sailor Mercury was upright once more, yes, but she was a mess: bloody and swaying on her feet. Worse, there was a look in her face that matched what Jupiter was feeling. Mercury was not beaten, she had not surrendered…but she was no longer confident that they would win.

Then there was…well. There was Uranus. Jupiter grimaced. Truth to tell, right now she was too tired to feel anything much about Uranus. The girl was there, and she could still fight—and there was no sign of tacit defeat in her stance. She was tired, but still ready. Right now, that made up for a lot.

That just left…wait. Where was Sailor Venus?

Jupiter had no time to wonder. With the same uncanny speed that the first rebuilt vitrimorph had shown, the next two surged forward. She had no time to do anything but dodge, and her best speed was barely enough. A jagged blade of crystal jutting out of its arm sliced a thin line of pain across her shoulder, but she flipped clear of anything worse and hit the monster in the back with a Supreme Thunder.

The bolt did no visible damage, but it made the vitrimorph light up with a pale blue glow. She snarled at the sight, and got ready to fire again. Before she could do so, she saw something shift in the reflections from its crystalline body—felt a subliminal warning tingle of danger—and dodged without thinking. An instant later, a many-bladed arm swept through the air where she had been, and the vitrimorph that had been right behind her let out a bellow of rage.

She backed away from the pair of them, ready to dodge. Where were the other Senshi, dammit? And why hadn't Pluto joined them? And what the hell had happened to Venus?

The two monsters began to stalk toward her and she watched them warily, ready for the sudden rush of speed. As the glowing one moved, as its body flexed, she saw lines of brighter blue open and close all across its form. Her mind raced. Was she seeing a brighter light coming from within, from the places where it had been fused together? Borders between slabs of crystal, parting for an instant and then rejoining? If so—if the thing hadn't been welded all the way back together—then it might be more fragile than before. It might help…

She saw Mercury and Uranus about to hit the creature in a pincer move, and timed her own attack to strike at the same moment.

"Supreme Thunder!"

For an instant she thought it was going to work. The vitrimorph glowed even brighter, almost dazzling, and its body seemed to sag. Then it straightened up and surged toward Uranus. She dodged out of the way, just barely, and it whirled to begin a new attack.

This time, when it moved, there were no more of the blue lines. It had healed itself somehow. Or, even worse, her own lightning bolt had been the energy source that finally fused it together. She had done nothing but strengthen it.

From behind, she heard a harsh bellow. A third reanimated vitrimorph, coming to join the fight; and overhead, she saw Lady Blue begin working on a fourth.

In the pit of her stomach, she realised the truth. The Senshi weren't going to win this battle. Not without a miracle.

月

Venus had ducked out of the way again after helping to save Mercury. Maybe it was the coward in her, but one thing was becoming clearer by the second: they could not win this fight. Somehow, somewhere, they had to find another way. Her eyes roamed the chamber, searching for something—anything—that might change the odds.

There was nothing. They were alone, and alone they were going to die.

_I don't belong here._

She looked up, to where Seki and Sailor Pluto watched them. Seki's agony, unable to act, was clear in her face. Pluto, in contrast, was cool, unreadable. Her eyes met Venus' for an instant, and Venus almost thought she saw a message there; but then Pluto looked away. Over to where Lady Blue floated in midair, laughing with dark malice as she worked to raise yet another vitrimorph.

Venus turned her head away with a shudder. Her gaze fell instead on Sailor Moon, still trapped, helpless, in her energy bubble. Moon's face held an agony to match Seki's. She pounded the wall of the bubble soundlessly, her mouth opening and closing in silent desperation. No, there was no help coming from that quarter.

_I'm not Sailor Venus._

Venus looked down, to where Tuxedo Kamen had fallen. He was moving now, climbing to his feet; but he was still almost helpless. He had to clutch at the side of a tank to stay erect. No help there either. No help from anywhere.

_Lady Aino, where are you? Minako-sama, please, help me!_

But there was no answer, and she realised that none was ever going to come. She was indeed alone: she, and the other Senshi, and an endless number of enemies. She grimaced, and brushed hair that was lank with sweat out of her eyes. If there was nothing else, at least she could go down fighting with her comrades. For whatever that was worth.

A vitrimorph lumbered past her hiding place, followed by a bolt of ice that was a fraction of the size of those Mercury had been firing when the battle began. Venus took a deep breath and crouched down, as Bendis had taught her, ready to spring.

And then a strange thought came to her. She looked back up at Sailor Pluto, on the catwalk above, and followed the woman's gaze. Not to Lady Blue, after all, but to Sailor Moon: trapped in a bubble of energy.

Energy.

Just like that, Venus saw what she could do. Not a feline manoeuvre; a human one, so very human. Almost automatically, she judged the angles and saw that she had a chance. It was just barely possible.

A moment later, she realised what the cost would be. She closed her eyes for a second, and let out a breath she hardly knew she had been holding.

_I'm sorry, Bendis. I don't think I can be a cat any more._

Then she moved. First, leaping up to the top of the tank next to her, and then across to a second. She was no Venus, but she remembered how it felt, to move with that effortless grace. She, McCrea Beth, could do this.

There was no room for error with this next part. She had to hit her target absolutely dead centre, or she would slip and fall. An impossible task, nearly; but she had done something like this before, back at the fire in the department building. Oh, yes, she had learned her lessons.

She fired her Love-Me Chain and it wrapped itself smoothly three times around Sailor Moon's bubble, as neatly and as easily as a dream. She really had gotten good at controlling the thing; it was almost a pity, actually. The far end of the chain snaked back to her, and she caught it and hooked it onto the tank she was standing on. She saw Lady Blue's eyes snap around to follow her, but the woman took no action. Why should she? Nothing Venus was doing could possibly help.

Venus bet herself that Lady Blue would not have anticipated the next part.

She leaped forward, still holding the free end of her chain, and swung low across the room—just as she had done once before, swinging beneath an Opal in midair. For an instant she felt again the yawning, swooping sensation. Then she landed on the top of another tank, on the far side of the room.

This one was different from the others. It had been damaged by a stray lightning bolt, fired by Sailor Jupiter a few minutes earlier. The cluster of cables that rose from its top, up into the labyrinth above, was smoking and emitting occasional clouds of sparks.

She glanced over her shoulder at Lady Blue, and saw that the woman was finally realising what she planned. But it was too late to stop her now. Venus had learned so much from Bendis: how to move, how to fight. _Why_ to fight. But it was Uranus who had taught her the next part.

"Sorry," she whispered. And then, "Good-bye."

She reached up and plunged the end of her Love-Me Chain into the cluster of live cables. Held it there with her gloved hand. She felt a massive shock up her arm and into her chest; felt her heart lurch once.

And then, nothing.

月

Uranus saw it happen: Venus reaching out and touching the end of her chain to the live cables. She saw the flash; the Love-Me Chain, lighting up with brilliant energy. And the far end of it, wrapped in a giant loop around Sailor Moon's prison bubble, blazed like a ring of white fire.

The bubble flickered and winked out.

After that, things happened very fast.

Sailor Venus toppled slowly from the top of the tank, her body limp, leaving a trail of smoke.

Sailor Moon dropped to the ground, landing awkwardly on one knee but recovering quickly. Her hand whipped up to her forehead, already energising her tiara to attack.

Above her, Lady Blue cried out in fury and pointed down at Moon, ready to direct some new attack at her. Before she could complete the motion, something flashed up through the air and hit her hand, sticking there. She cried out again, this time in pain, and lifted her hand to stare at the missile in disbelief.

A rose. Tuxedo Kamen was on his feet: pale, wavering, but grim-faced and determined.

An instant after that, Sailor Moon's tiara was whining upward in a golden arc, directly at Lady Blue. The floating woman gave an animal snarl and threw up her other hand to block.

The tiara struck there and seemed to cling for a second, glowing brighter and brighter. Then, with a violent effort, Lady Blue flung it away from her. It hit the wall some distance off with a sharp crack and ricocheted away out of sight. Lady Blue was left hanging in the air, still alive, her face black with rage. One arm hung limp at her side, dripping with dark blood from the rose that still stuck out from the back of her hand. The other hand was blackened and broken where the tiara had struck. But the malice in her eyes was undiminished, and the jewel on her brow pulsed as if alive.

"Enough," she rasped. "I am through with patience for you vermin. This ends, right now—"

Sailor Jupiter's Supreme Thunder caught her directly in the forehead.

The jewel ignited with a blinding flash and a noise that sounded almost like a scream. Then, with an ear-splitting crack, it broke in pieces and tumbled away from her, trailing an arc of blood.

She spasmed in midair, writhing and shrieking, and fell. As she tumbled, a ripple of change seemed to crawl over her body; her midnight blue uniform faded away, leaving pale flesh in its wake. Then she struck the floor with a flat crunch, and her voice ended suddenly.

Around the room, the four reanimated vitrimorphs froze. Then, almost as one, they began to topple over. They seemed to disintegrate as they dropped, coming apart in a multitude of glittering fragments that hissed down into the thin scum that still covered the floor.

A long silence filled the room.

Then Jupiter punched the air, shouting, "Yes!" Her face was smudged and exhausted, her uniform stained, her hair limp and bedraggled, but the triumph and relief in her eyes were unmistakable.

—And behind her, Uranus saw one final figure shamble out from behind the tanks on the far side of the room. It was a young man, naked, hunched over as if in pain, one hand tucked against his belly. He came toward the girl, staggering and reeling, his good hand outstretched as if for help. He opened his mouth, his eyes fixed on Jupiter, and Uranus heard his moan…and saw the flash of green light in his eyes, and the fire gathering in his throat.

Uranus had never moved so fast in her life. She had no time to think; only act. She fired her Music of the Spheres in mid-leap, hitting the man in the side and jarring his aim. His energy bolt cracked over Jupiter's shoulder, missing her by mere centimetres. An instant later Uranus slammed into Jupiter, knocking the girl out of the way. Jupiter cried out in surprise. The two of them hit the floor in a sprawl, but Uranus was still moving. She rolled upright and fired again, and this time she hit the young man squarely. He froze, fell, and lay still. Uranus sank back to her knees, panting.

When she looked up once more, Jupiter was standing over her, gazing down at her with a strange expression. Uranus got up and they stood, staring at each other.

Then Jupiter's lips tightened and her eyes turned to the body lying a short distance away. "Him," she said quietly. "I remember him." She let out a long breath. "All he wanted was for his mamma to help him. To make it better. That was all." She shook her head, glanced back at Uranus, then turned and walked away.

Uranus glanced down at the body, not really understanding, then back up at Jupiter's retreating back. "Yes," she whispered, surprised at the bitterness she felt. "Thank you, too."

月

Sailor Mercury barely noticed the drama between Jupiter and Uranus. As the last vitrimorph fell, she was hurrying over to the spot where Venus had fallen.

It was not as if she'd ever felt particularly close to the girl. They were rivals, maybe, in an inane sort of way. But what Venus had just done to save them all…that was so far beyond the bounds of anything Mercury could have expected that it simply took her breath away. To do that, to be willing to do that, for a group of—not strangers, no, but not exactly close friends, either—well, it made Mercury wonder. If she had been in the same position, would she have done the same thing? _Could_ she have? Would she have even thought of it?

She rounded a tank and saw Venus. The girl was lying sprawled on the ground, face down, not moving; she did not even appear to be breathing. Her arm, her face and half her uniform were blackened, and there was an ugly, dark red weal running from her hand up her forearm. The air was heavy with a thick burnt smell.

Mercury froze at the sight. "No, dammit," she said. "It's not fair." Then suddenly, without quite remembering how she had got there, she was on her knees, holding Venus by the shoulders and shaking her. "No!" she cried furiously. "Come on, you idiot girl, you can't be dead. You…you…" She broke off, lost for words, and finished in a whisper, "You still have to show Ochiyo-chan how to do accounting, don't you remember? You can't just die like this."

She heard a footstep behind her and looked around to see Sailor Moon approaching, Tuxedo Kamen following just behind her. Hot on their heels came Bendis, yowling with alarm and grief. The cat came to a halt by Venus' head and touched her face with one faltering paw. "Beth," she wept. "Beth. Don't die; don't die…"

Moon, for her part, took on a flat, unreadable expression as she saw Venus' body. She paused and her fists clenched once, then opened. She took a quick breath and started to say something—

And then Venus' eyes flickered and opened. "Oh. Hello," she said in a blurred, muzzy voice. "Did we win?"

Bendis hiccuped into silence. Mercury said, "Uh—"

Venus blinked up at her, her eyes still vague. "You aren't my aunt, are you?"

Perhaps it was her sense of relief, or the stress of the moment, but Mercury could not help it. "Why, yes," she said. "Yes, I certainly am. Happy birthday, Beth-chan."

Venus gave her a dreamy smile. "Thank you," she said, and blinked again. "Where's my cake?"

Behind them, Moon started to chuckle. Mercury smiled back at Venus, and then unceremoniously dropped her head to the floor. It made a hollow clunk. "I think," she said, "my work here is done."

月

Sailor Moon left Mercury and Venus to their horseplay. Her eyes turned to another part of the room, where one last task remained. She looked up at Tuxedo Kamen, and he nodded. Then the two of them went warily over to the place where Lady Blue lay.

The details became appallingly clear as they drew near and Moon froze, her breath catching. Just behind her, she heard Tuxedo Kamen's own whistle of dismay. From the corner of her eye she saw Jupiter, also approaching, stop short with a gasp.

Moon swallowed, hard, and forced herself to go on. To look down in horror at what had become of their enemy.

A naked woman lay where Lady Blue had fallen. Her body was twisted and broken; but it was more than that, and worse. She looked _wasted_. Her face was sunken, skull-like; her hair, a thin, matted ruin. The flesh on her body and limbs was all but shrunken away; her ribs protruded in stark outline, plainly visible under a layer of skin that was so thin it was almost translucent. The breasts that lay over them were empty, withered sacs of dry skin.

"God, she looks like she hasn't eaten for a month," whispered Tuxedo Kamen. "No, a year."

And this, too, was not over; for at the sound of his voice, the woman's head jerked and turned, and she looked around with milky, half-blind eyes. "Who's there?" she said, her voice a thin rasp. "Is that—" She broke off with a dry cough that ended in a gasp of pain. "Is that Sailor Moon?"

Moon took a deep breath, and stepped toward her. "I'm here," she said, her voice not quite level.

The woman's head turned a little more toward her; and then those awful eyes closed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"What?"

"Thank you," the horror repeated. "Oh, thank you for setting me free. Free at last. You don't know what it's been like…" Again she broke off, in a series of coughs that seemed liable to shake her wasted frame apart.

Then Moon understood, and without even thinking about it she went forward again, dropped to her knees in the thin scum that still covered the floor and gathered the woman into her arms. "Hush," she said gently. "Don't try to talk. You—you're going to be all right."

The woman hardly seemed to hear her. "I had such dreams," she said in a voice that was cracked and more than a little mad. "We all did, until we met him. Until he stole our souls." Her eyes opened once more, and this time she seemed to see Moon's face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hush. It doesn't matter. It's over now."

The woman shook her head, the motion scarcely more than a twitch. "No. It's just starting. And I _am_ sorry. About the new plan…and the innocent ones. I'm sorry we hurt them." She blinked up at Moon, her eyes seeming to gain focus for a moment, and added, "I wish I'd been on your side."

Moon shook her head and gathered her close, smoothing the hair away from her forehead. Chunks of it came away in her hand, but she gave no sign. "Hush, Araki-san," she said. "It's all right."

"It's so cold," Araki whispered. "I just…I just wanted to see the sun again. That was all." Her gaze wandered away again, and her head fell back against Moon's arm. "Thank you," she said. "Oh, thank you." Her eyes closed, and she murmured, "I'm so hungry."

Then she died.

* * *

And, in the Council Chambers in the heart of the city, the voice of the Master awoke in the chairman's mind, after so long, and told him what he was to do next.

He closed his eyes in horror. Then, slowly, moved to obey.

* * *

On the catwalk above, Pluto lowered her head. "And so it is over," she said. She might have been discussing the time of day; it was only long familiarity that let Seki notice the slight catch in her voice. "From now on, I am blind."

Seki nodded, and after a pause she touched Pluto's arm lightly. There seemed little point in offering condolences. They had both known this was coming.

"They're on their own, then," she said instead. "No cryptic hints about the future, just relying on themselves." She gave Pluto a mordant smile. "Hell, it's like old times, back when we were fighting Beryl."

A snort. "If you like."

"It's not over, of course. They'd be fools to think so, and I know they're not fools. Now, they'll need to…" Seki thought about it. "I'm not sure. Moon has her own ideas, so I'm not sure what they'll decide to do next." She grimaced and added, "If they ask me…I suppose a good next step would be to look for the others. Saturn, Neptune…they'd be a great help."

Pluto shook her head. "I don't know about Neptune, but don't expect to see Sailor Saturn again—at least not soon. The bloodline of Saturn has been submerged for a long time now. It is slowly moving to awaken again…but not yet. It's still too soon. In another generation or two, perhaps."

With an incredulous look, Seki said, "What, this crisis isn't bad enough to awaken her? Or the Fall, for that matter?" Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know so much about it, anyway?"

Pluto hesitated.

"Tell me, dammit!"

"Hotaru died without passing on her potential to an explicit heir," Pluto said tightly. "She preferred not to make anyone else suffer the way she did. With her gone, and nothing to call it up, the Saturn Power fell dormant. I believe it began to revive during the Fall, but, ah, something kept it from surfacing then. Later, with all the mass deaths that followed the collapse, it was driven underground again. Now it is building once more, yes, and I have an idea where it may surface…but not now. Not yet." Her lips compressed. "And, yes, Hotaru and I discussed it; but I had no idea that this crisis was ahead. I could not see it, because…well, you know why."

"And you didn't think it was a good idea to _tell_ anyone about this?"

Pluto gave her a long, unhappy look. "What would have been the point?"

Far too late, Seki remembered how close Setsuna and Hotaru had been. Inwardly, she winced, but she did not let it deter her. "_This_ is the point, damn you," she snapped, gesturing down into the chamber. "Sailor Venus being ready to sacrifice herself to save everyone, that's the point! And all the rest of them, fighting for their lives because they know they can depend on—"

"On Sailor Saturn?" asked Pluto stiffly.

"No! On _you_! On us! On—on the whole _legend_! Knowing that if you're keeping important information from them, it's because it's _important_, not just because you miss Hotaru!" Seki took a deep breath and let it out. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer. "I'll tell you one thing, anyway. This battle might have been the last thing you could see. But it's not the last vision _I've_ had."

Pluto stared at her. She seemed to stop breathing. After a long time, she said, "What, then?"

Seki seriously considered not telling her. But in the end she swallowed her anger and said, in a low voice, "A fireball in the heart of the city. And…and an army of vitrimorphs marching through the streets." She paused, realising. "No. Not vitrimorphs. Crystites."

"Ah." Pluto became still, her eyes hooded and distant. "I see."

"Yeah. So I'll tell you one more thing, Sadako. It's time for you to join the team again. You may have been on Special Duties for the last few thousand years, but now you've been demoted. You're one of the troops again…and the next time there's a fight, you ought to be with them. Clear?"

Sailor Pluto gave her a faint smile. "I'll take it under advisement," she said. With a nod, she turned away and walked back out of the room, leaving Seki alone. Seki opened her mouth to protest—and then closed it again. With a sigh, she went over to meet the weary girls climbing up the stairs from the chamber floor.

月

Jupiter and Moon had to help Tuxedo Kamen up the last of the stairs; he was still too weak and shaken to make it all the way. Behind them, in turn, Mercury and Uranus supported Venus. Venus kept swatting at their hands and insisting that she could walk on her own. Neither of the two girls seemed to believe her.

In truth, Venus was secretly glad of their help—even if one of the helpers was Sailor Uranus. Her head was swimming in a disconcerting way, and her whole chest ached as if she'd been kicked there. Her legs were kind of wobbly, too.

But she was alive, and her idea had worked. How about that? It had been a desperation move, but in spite of everything she had actually succeeded.

She wondered what the real Venus, Lady Aino, would have done instead.

But that was something to think about later; to discuss with Bendis, perhaps. The cat was just ahead of her on the stairs, continually pausing and looking back to make sure she was all right. She did not seem to realise that this meant that Venus was nearly tripping over her every second step.

The cat meant well, anyway. And it was nice to know that someone cared that much about her. Sometimes she had wondered.

In spite of herself, her mind went back to the last moments on top of the tank. Half in a panic, heart in her throat, because she knew what she was about to do, and what the consequences would probably be. The other half of her, knowing that she could not find any other way out; because there was only herself there, McCrea Beth. The one who should have been in charge was missing.

Mercury had been talking in her ear for some time, and Venus had been ignoring the stream of chatter, but now something broke through and caught her attention. Mercury was saying, "—getting kind of worried about you, y'know. I mean, you're usually kind of wild, but you were fighting so badly today; I thought something must be wrong. But that last stunt…that one was totally deranged. You _must_ be okay."

Venus froze on the step and looked around at Mercury, stricken. Because that didn't help at all. That just made it worse. It left the problem that had been growing in her mind, the vital question, all the more muddled.

Who was she?

月

Sailor Moon paused at the top of the stairs, allowing Tuxedo Kamen to step away and brace himself against the catwalk railing. He was firmer on his feet now, his face a healthier colour, but still he sagged a little as she and Jupiter released him. Whatever Lady Blue had hit him with, it had been worse than the attack that she had used against Moon herself.

She eyed him with some ambivalence. Ally he might be, but he still represented something that Moon would rather forget. She did not want a new 'father'; she was perfectly happy with the one she already had. A masked figure hovering in the wings, waiting to protect her; that, she wanted still less. The idea was almost insulting.

And there was still the matter of that kiss. Who did he see, when he looked at her: his daughter, or his wife? Or Mercury's friend Kin, for that matter?

With a tiny shake of her head, she turned her back on him. He was going to have to learn his place, that was all. This was a new age, and he would just damn well have to adapt.

Seki was nearby, watching them with a concerned expression, and Moon went over to speak to her. "What can we expect next?" she asked without preamble.

Seki seemed a little thrown by the question. "Uh…well, you ought to leave. Sooner or later someone's going to come and find all this—"

"No, no. What can we expect from the enemy? Araki-san said it wasn't over; she said it was just starting. And she mentioned some kind of new plan. What can we expect from the enemy?"

"Uh. I've no idea. Why would you expect me to?" The woman's brow furrowed. "A new plan? That doesn't sound good."

"Oh. I saw you talking to Sailor Pluto, so I thought maybe she might have said something." With a sigh, Moon let herself relax. "A heads-up on what's next would have been nice."

Seki grimaced. "In my experience, Pluto doesn't have much time for what would be nice."

"Oh. Okay." A new thought occurred to Moon. "Wait, that really was Sailor Pluto? The original one?"

"Uh, yes."

"Wow. She doesn't look anything like her statue." Behind her, Moon heard Uranus choke suddenly, but she did not look around.

"Statue?" Seki eyed her uncertainly.

"Never mind. You're right; we ought to get out of here." Moon turned for a moment to look out and down, across the chamber. "We've hurt them today," she said slowly, "and they've hurt us too. Nearly hurt us more than we could afford." Her lips tightened. "Maybe you were right; we shouldn't have come here."

"No," said Seki. "After what I saw here…it needed to be done; and sooner, rather than later. This was…this place was an abomination."

"Yeah. Maybe." Moon was silent for a moment. "Does it often get this bad?"

"Truthfully? Sometimes."

"Do you get used to it?"

"No." Seki's voice was flat. "Not if you want to keep your soul."

Sailor Moon cocked her head to one side, taking this in. Yesterday, she would have passed off Seki's words as melodramatic. Now, she thought that perhaps she understood them. "Yes," she said. "Thank you."

Then, raising her head, she looked around the others and said, "Okay, everyone. Sooner or later, someone's going to notice all this and sound the alarm, and we're going to have company. Let's move."

Venus gave her a tired grin in return. "Yeah," she said. "Home sounds good."

"Right," agreed Jupiter. "We need to get together again later to talk about all this, but for now…" She glanced down at her uniform, blotched and filthy and lined here and there with streaks of blood. "A bath might be nice."

"Motion seconded and carried," said Tuxedo Kamen with a smile. He released the rail and straightened up, motioning toward the door. "Ladies…?"

Sailor Moon frowned for an instant at the archaic chivalry, but let it go. He was something of an archaism himself, after all. Instead she led the way out of the ruined chamber.

She was tired herself, as it happened.

* * *

'S' Division was called out in force when the alarm came in: twelve field agents and three full forensics teams. The agents went in armed for bear, at maximum alert. Security-wise, the Tenshin Institute rated very high—though nobody was quite sure why.

The alarm was cancelled, very suddenly, two minutes before the teams arrived at the institute facilities. There was a lot of grumbling, and some heated words exchanged with headquarters. Word came down that the institute security people were going to handle it themselves. More words, this time incredulous, were exchanged. Nobody believed that the institute would be able to cope, but in the end 'S' Division retreated. They did it slowly. It seemed pretty likely that they would be called back anyway, when the institute boys fucked things up.

Hiiro did not retreat. He and Kuroi disobeyed orders and went on in, alone.

Captain Hiiro had been part of the squad dispatched to the institute, but he had not been in charge. It was the best Colonel Shiro had been able to do for him. Somebody high-up, it seemed, suddenly had it in for Hiiro.

"Watch yourself," Shiro had told him in private before sending him out. Hiiro, still smarting from the abrupt, unexplained transfer of Mitsukai away from his team, had nodded in complete understanding.

Now, as he looked out over the incredible mess of the Tenshin Institute laboratory floor, he had a whole new appreciation of the colonel's words. Something appalling had happened here, something far beyond his experience. Sailor Senshi or not, he did not like it.

"Shit," said Kuroi in a low voice. "What went on here? A butchers' convention?"

"Let's find out."

They descended to the ground level and picked their way slowly through the debris. Nothing was moving, but there were enough corpses strewn around, most of them deformed to some degree, to make both men cautious.

The deformations were horrifying in their own right. Some of the bodies were barely recognisable as human at all. A lot of them, if not all, looked to have come out of the giant tanks spaced around the lab floor. What the hell had the Tenshin Institute bastards been up to? After a moment, Hiiro added to himself: _No wonder they didn't want us coming in here._

He gestured to Kuroi, who nodded, and the two began taking readings to use to ID the bodies later: iris scans when possible, fingerprints when not. Some of the bodies lacked recognisable eyes or fingers, and Hiiro took blood samples instead. For a few damned souls, even that much was impossible.

Some minutes later Kuroi called to him softly. Hiiro went over to join him, and together they stared down at the shrivelled, wizened corpse that lay in a clear area of the floor. This one was different from the rest: it was not deformed at all, other than looking as if it had died of terminal starvation; and somebody had laid it out with curious respect, arms crossed over the sunken chest.

Also, Hiiro recognised it. Even through the ghastly sunken features, the skin that was almost transparent, he knew that face. He had voted for her once.

"It's Araki Mamiko," he said. "Ryo, they've killed a Serry."

Kuroi threw him a startled glance, then examined the body more closely. "Well, shit," he said at length in a reflective tone. "I'd never have…damn, Yoichi, there's going to be hell to pay for this."

"It doesn't make any sense," Hiiro muttered. "Why would they have…what did they _do_ to her?" He paused, and his eyes narrowed. "What's this?"

There was an odd wound on the body's forehead: deep, almost like a cavity, and perfectly circular. He knelt to examine it more carefully.

"Where they hit her?" suggested Kuroi, bending down to join him.

"I don't think so. This looks more as if it was made a long time ago." Carefully, Hiiro reached out a finger. "There's a lot of scarring; looks like burn marks, but—" He hesitated. "Have you ever seen frost burns before? More like that. And…it's all healed inside. Healed."

An odd thought came to him, then, and he looked around. Then, ignoring Kuroi's surprised query, he got up and widened his search. A few metres from the body, he found what he was looking for: a stone lying on the floor. It was a flattened disc, jet-black, and broken into three uneven pieces, one of them little more than a narrow sliver.

He picked up the smallest piece and held it up to the light. An instant later he yelped in pain. The splinter was so cold that it burned like fire. He dropped it to the floor again, shaking his hand—and then watched in disbelief as, in perfect silence, the stone evaporated, subliming away into a cloud of dark mist and then vanishing utterly.

He looked at his hand again. There was a dark mark on his finger, rimmed with pale white. Frostbite? As he studied the spot, a tiny dot of blood welled up in the centre of the mark.

Wiping his hand on the seat of his pants with a shudder, he pulled out a plastic bag and a pair of tweezers. He picked up the other two pieces and dropped them gingerly into the bag. They showed no reaction. On a sudden impulse, he touched the larger piece through the plastic. It did not feel cold. It felt like a lump of stone, that was all.

Back at Araki's body, he held out the bag and compared the pieces to the wound on her forehead. They matched in size exactly.

"What is this, some kind of fairy-tale crap from the old days?" he said, his voice hoarse.

"What are we going to do?" asked Kuroi, ever practical. "Get that thing analysed? But normally we'd send it _here_ for analysis."

"Yeah. I think—" Hiiro broke off. What _did_ he think? "I think we're going to get out of here before the Tenshin boys arrive, that's what. I think we're going to keep our mouths shut. And you know what else I think? I think that in a day or two, somebody's going to announce Araki-san's death in a tragic accident, or a sudden illness. And there won't be any mention of the way her body looks, or of the fucking Sailor Senshi, at all."

"You're saying…this goes high up, then. Maybe all the way to the top."

"I'm saying that right now, you're about the only one in the world I trust. Maybe you and the Colonel." Hiiro's lips tightened. "Come on, let's get out of this place. If I smell that crap on the floor any longer I'm going to throw up."

They left in silence. A single video camera watched them go.

* * *

Seki pulled up outside the house on Sendai Hill, and Makoto climbed out wearily. Every bone in her body ached. She felt as if she had been thrown off the top of a mountain, and then had the mountain thrown after her for good measure. Dozens of cuts on her arms, legs and across her back sent jangles of pain through her whenever she moved, as her clothes brushed her skin. She wanted nothing more than to take a long, incredibly hot bath, and then throw herself into bed and sleep for a week. Possibly two weeks.

There was one small problem with that. The problem manifested as two people standing on the doorstep, watching her as she came up the path.

Fujimaro and Miliko.

Makoto paused as she caught sight of them, and then continued on. What else could she do? She must have been quite a sight, though, judging from the way Miliko's eyes widened as she approached. Fujimaro was more reserved, but he too was shocked; she had known him long enough to see the signs.

She heard footsteps: Seki, coming up the path behind her. The older woman went up to the front door, stepping around the two on the porch without a word, and opened the door. She paused on the threshold, giving Makoto a long, silent look, and then nodded once and disappeared inside.

A long silence fell. Makoto, Fujimaro and Miliko stared at one another. Makoto waited for the others to speak, but neither of them did, and after a little she realised that they could not think of anything to say. Then she realised that she could not, either.

Instead she stepped forward and pulled them together in a big, three-way hug. Their arms tightened around her and she knew she had gotten it right.

"Come inside," she said.

* * *

Beth did not go straight home after they split up. Instead, she and Bendis went visiting.

In the wake of the battle, as they all de-transformed and stood around, tired and sore, it was glaringly obvious that one of them was missing. Under other circumstances Beth would have let it slide and simply asked Iku about it the next time she saw her; but then Suzue started to make pointed remarks about how Sailor Mars would not have been much help anyway. Beth stood it for a little while, and then quietly lost her temper. She announced, in a tone that brooked no argument, that she would go around to Iku's house and find out what had been the matter.

That shut Suzue up, at least. It also seemed to relieve Bendis, for some reason; the cat had been looking quite shifty there for a while. Before she could ask why, though, Dhiti suddenly volunteered to go with them. Beth could only blink at her in surprise, her anger forgotten.

It turned out that Dhiti knew where Iku lived, though how or why was a mystery to Beth. She was glad, however, because it made her remember that she herself had no idea where the quiet girl lived. (Although, on second thought, Bendis might have known.)

She decided not to ask any more questions, knowing that getting straight answers out of Dhiti could be complicated, and simply agreed. The three of them, two girls and a cat, were about to leave, when Suzue suddenly insisted that she was coming too.

This was much less welcome. Beth was trying to work out how to say so diplomatically when Dhiti said, rather sharply, "Why? Want to kick her for not being holy enough?"

Suzue gave her an irritated look. "Don't be ridiculous." Her lips tightened and she went on, "She should have been here. If she's one of us, she has a duty, and you know it."

Beth nearly lost her temper again, and said, "She might have a good excuse, you know! It could be something perfectly innocent."

"I know." Suzue nodded, studying Beth with thoughtful eyes. "That's why I want to go. Look, there's something weird about her; you know there is. I want to be sure. I want to know that she can be…" She hesitated. "Relied on."

"Trusted?" probed Dhiti with a sardonic look.

"If you like. Yes."

"Of course she can be trusted!" exploded Beth.

"Then where is she?"

Beth did not answer, simply glaring at her. After a brief pause, Dhiti said, "Let's find out."

"Yeah," echoed Bendis, almost inaudibly. "Let's _all_ find out." Beth gave her a surprised look, but the cat would not meet her eye.

So it seemed there would be four of them to visit Iku. Inwardly, Beth fumed as they set out; she still had not quite forgiven Suzue, and it felt as though the other girl were invading something private. Iku was _her_ friend, not Suzue's! But there was nothing she could do about it, and so she went along with it in a sullen silence.

They caught a bus across town and got off in west Kimiyaza. Dhiti was moving a little slowly, and her torn shoulder was clearly bothering her. It took a minute or two for her to get her bearings; as she explained, she had come by quite a different route last time. But after a little while, they stood in front of a small, unexceptional house in a quiet neighbourhood. Dusk was falling.

Beth studied the front door, uneasy. She had never been here before, and when you came right down to it, she didn't actually know Iku all that well either. What would she say when she knocked? 'Hi, Iku-chan, we just thought we'd stop by'? That sounded so lame…

Beside her, Dhiti let out an impatient snort, walked forward, and gave a sharp rap on the door. There was no response for a few seconds; then they all heard the approaching footsteps. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman with greying hair and Iku's dark eyes.

"Hello?" the woman said. Her eyes narrowed a little at the sight of Dhiti. "Oh, yes. Iku's…friend, wasn't it?"

Beth froze, but Dhiti showed no sign of being put out by the welcome. "Hi, Kodama-san," she said blithely. "Could we speak to Iku-chan, please? She wasn't at school today and we were worried."

Iku's mother raised her eyebrows. "No, she isn't here. Not at school, you say? My goodness. She left as usual, this morning; I'd thought she was with you, my dear, you and her other friends." Her lips curled, for a moment, in something that might have been a smile. Then her face was clear and friendly again. "Such a _lot_ of friends Iku is making, too," she went on. "Isn't that nice! She's had so many problems, you know, with her health. A chronic illness, poor girl; I've discussed it with her school several times…"

Dhiti tried to get a word in edgewise. "Uh—"

"And it's getting so late!" the woman went on, glancing at her watch. "Oh dear, oh dear. What can have happened? Perhaps I ought to call the police…"

"Um—" Dhiti tried again.

"I'm sure that's not necessary," broke in Suzue firmly. "It's the last day of term, after all. Maybe she just decided to skip school today. A lot of students do."

"Oh, yes, that could be it—it would be just like Iku, that naughty girl—"

Suzue gave her a bright smile. "Well, we'll catch her another time. Sorry to have bothered you, Kodama-san. Good evening."

They exchanged pleasantries and left the house. Beth had a strange feeling as she walked back down the path to the gate: as if she could feel a pair of eyes, boring into her back. But when she looked around there was nothing; just a perfectly innocent-looking house and a closed front door.

They walked down the road for a minute; and then Suzue said, in a slow, thoughtful voice, "I don't like that woman."

Dhiti gave her a surprised look. "Why? I thought she was quite nice. A bit giddy, maybe."

"I've met people like that before." Suzue paused, and then went on reluctantly, "You…learn to recognise them, after a while. The ones who smile and act friendly and pretend to like you; but inside…"

She trailed off. Dhiti waited, but the girl was clearly done. "Um, you don't think you might be overreacting, just a little?"

"She lied about Iku-chan," said Beth.

Suzue gave her a sharp look. "Oh?"

"She said it was just like Iku-chan to skip school. She said she was a naughty girl. But Iku-chan wouldn't do a thing like that; she's never, well, naughty. She's too…"

"Yes?"

Beth bit her lip. "Too scared."

Suzue took this in and said, "She might have done it before, you know. Some of the times you thought she was sick."

"I…I don't believe that."

"Mm. I don't think I do, either. It's hard to believe Iku-san would have the initiative to do anything on her own." Suzue scowled. "And I _don't_ like that woman."

"But—" Beth spread her hands. "What do we do, then? If she isn't at home, and she isn't answering her communicator—"

"I know where she might be," said a small voice. Beth looked down, startled, at Bendis. The cat looked nervous, almost guilty. "That is, I have an idea…"

月

They reached the botanical gardens about twenty minutes later. The grounds were in shadow, but there was still enough light to thread their way between rockeries and flower beds, following the cat. Dhiti looked around with interest as they went. She had never come here before, and she found it fascinating to compare these grounds with the wild, overgrown bush she had seen on their trip outside the city with Itsuko. It was an intriguing glimpse into Iku's character, too. What was it that brought her here so often?

At length, deep in the centre of the gardens, they came to a narrow, winding path, bordered by trees and orchids, that looked as though it led to a dead end. Bendis followed it unerringly, and at the very end she turned into a side path hidden between walls of greenery. A short way down, the path opened out into a little clearing that held a wooden bench. A girl sat there, her head lowered, hands busy with a pair of knitting needles.

"She comes here all the time, when she isn't in school," said Bendis in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. She added, after a moment's hesitation, "At least, that's what I heard."

As they approached, Iku looked up with a startled gasp. The knitting fell from her hands and landed in a tangled heap on the ground. Dhiti saw that her face was pale and blotchy. Was she sick?

"Iku-chan?" she called softly.

Iku remained frozen, scarcely seeming to breathe. Then, at last, she relaxed. "D—Dhiti-san?" she said. Her eyes were in shadow, her voice almost inaudible. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" exclaimed Dhiti. "What about you? We had trouble this afternoon and nobody could get hold of you; and when we talked to your mother she said she didn't even know where you were!"

There was no answer for a long time. Then, "You talked to my mother?"

"Well, duh! She said she thought you were out with us. But Beth-chan said you weren't even at school today, and when you didn't answer your communicator—"

"Oh." Iku touched her bare wrist. "I…I must have left it at home today."

Dhiti hesitated, eyeing her. "You are all right, aren't you? Your mother said you were sick quite often."

"No! I'm—I'm perfectly fine. I—really, I am…"

"Iku-san," said Suzue, cutting her off. "Are you going to sit here all night?"

Dhiti looked sharply around at her, about to protest, and then subsided. There was something in the girl's face that gave her pause. Suzue seemed perfectly calm and matter-of-fact, but there was a look in her eyes, a quiet intensity, that made Dhiti wonder.

Iku seemed to feel it, too. She squirmed under that gaze, twisting in her seat. Her mouth opened and closed, twice. At last, in a voice that was barely audible, she said, "No. I know. I have to go home."

"All right, then," said Suzue. She was frowning now, just a little, as if something were bothering her. As if, it occurred to Dhiti, she had gotten a test question wrong, when she had been sure of her answer.

She was still pondering this when Iku stood up, picking her knitting up and stowing it neatly away in a battered satchel. Her face was set, almost harsh in the twilight. She gave Dhiti one quick, impenetrable look. Then, her eyes cast down at the ground in front of her, she said, "I'm ready."

They walked out through the gardens in an uneasy group. Iku kept lagging behind a little, but whenever Dhiti fell back to walk beside her, Iku would either speed up or slow down still further. The result was that, even surrounded by her friends, she always walked alone. She kept her head down, and did not speak. Before long, all of them were silent.

By the time they reached the edge of the gardens, the streetlights were coming on, glowing their familiar pale blue. Iku paused at the gate, looking up the street, her expression flat and blank. Then, before any of the others could say a word, she moved on.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, Bendis said, "Maybe I should stay here. Um, you know, not come any further."

The group came to a stop. Suzue gave the cat a curious look. "Why? What's wrong? You were okay before."

"No, I wasn't. I hid outside the gate. You just didn't notice."

"Well, what's the problem, then?" demanded Beth.

"I—" Bendis hesitated, then said, rather guiltily, "I just don't want to…you know, deal with it. The dog."

"Dog?" They all spoke, almost together—even, Dhiti noticed, Iku.

"I just…don't like them, okay? You have a dog, right, Iku-san? You mentioned one before—I think it's the first thing I ever heard you say. And Beth-chan mentioned it, too."

Iku stared at the cat. "Oh." She said it softly, with a queer catch in her voice, almost like a hiccough. "Oh. Oh, no…"

"Huh?" Beth looked at her, eyebrows high. "Come to think of it, Nanako-chan mentioned a dog, too. A puppy, or something."

Dhiti started to mention her dream, and then paused. For once, she decided that now was not the best time to complicate things. Not when Iku was talking again at last.

"No," Iku said again. "I don't…I mean, not any more. I had…I had a puppy once. Koinu-chan…"

_'Puppy-chan'?_ thought Dhiti in mild disgust. _How old was she, anyway?_ She saw Suzue open her mouth and realised that the other girl was about to ask the same thing. She caught Suzue's eye and shook her head. For a wonder, Suzue subsided.

"Koinu-chan," whispered Iku once more. Her hands were shaking, her face hidden in shadow. "I used to…I used to hold him, and he licked my face. He loved me. He truly did."

"Iku-chan—" began Beth.

"How old were you?" asked Suzue, her voice strangely gentle.

"Oh…nine, I think. He, he was a stray, you know. I found him in the park. He was s-starving. I looked after him and I beg—I, I asked Mother if I could keep him, and she said yes, if I kept him quiet and he wasn't a n-nuisance. And I tried. I tried so hard…"

She was crying, Dhiti realised suddenly. Her shoulders shook and her face was wet with tears; but she kept on walking without pause. They were nearly at her house now.

"What happened?" she asked cautiously. "Did he get sick?"

"N-no. It was my fault. I couldn't…I couldn't do it." Her breath caught for an instant. "It was my f-failure. I know that. But he was just a puppy, you see? He loved to play. And I tried, and I tried, but I c-couldn't make him understand that he had to be quiet…"

"So—what, your mother sent him to the pound, or something?" asked Beth. She sounded uneasy.

"Oh, no, not the…pound. One night, when he started barking, she—she made him be quiet. Then she told me, and I had to…to bury him, and she punished me afterward. But—"

"You had to _what_?" blurted out Dhiti.

"But Mother was right," Iku whispered. "It was my fault. I knew that. I couldn't do what I promised, and I had to—"

She broke off, looking around. They had reached her house. It was mostly darkened, but one light, next to the front door, was on.

"I had to take the consequences."

She looked back at them, just for a moment. Her face was miserable, but resolute. Then, before any of them could speak, she opened the gate and headed up the path. She moved quickly, almost eagerly. As she reached the front door it opened, and they could see a figure standing inside. Iku went in, and the door closed behind her with a faint click.

月

"What the _hell_?" demanded Dhiti. "She wasn't serious, was she? She was nine years old and she couldn't keep a puppy quiet, so her mother _killed_ it? And made her _bury_ it herself?"

"She must be joking," said Beth in a faint voice. "She must be. Mustn't she?"

"I wonder," said Suzue.

"Oh, come on! No one would _do_ that—"

Bendis stopped listening. She glanced around, checking that nobody was watching, and slipped in through the bars of the gate. Nanako's words of the day before still echoed in her mind. The girl had said that humans didn't eat their young; but from what Bendis had just heard, and allowing for a little metaphor, Nanako had it dead wrong.

Bendis followed the wall of the house around to the back. She moved cautiously and silently; she had an idea that being caught now would be a very bad thing. The back yard seemed empty but she paused for a minute or two, watching out for any stray humans—or, worse, any stray cats or dogs. But there was no sign of movement and she went on.

The back door of the house was closed. She stared up at the handle, pondering the ironies of evolution and the infuriating idiocy that had left cats without opposable thumbs. There was no help for it, though, and with a sigh she moved on.

She checked the windows next. One was half-open and she thought she could get in, but the light was on and there might be someone inside. She hesitated for a long time and was about to try it anyway, when a faint sound caught her ear. A short, sharp noise, like an impact. She looked around and saw, for the first time, a dim glow coming from the ground not far away. The angles of the house had hidden it before, but from beneath the window it was clear. She padded over and saw that it came from a glass pane set low in the rear wall. A cellar window, she realised. She went close and looked inside.

The cellar was deep, and lined with concrete. Iku was in there, with a woman who must have been her mother. Iku was kneeling on the floor. She was naked. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, as if in pain. The other woman stood over her, one hand raised. She was shouting, or at least talking vehemently, but the sound was too muffled; Bendis could not make out what she was saying.

Then—Bendis saw it vividly, as if in slow motion—the woman's hand came around, catching Iku on the face and sending her sprawling across the floor. She followed fast with her foot, kicking the girl squarely in the belly. Iku's mouth opened and closed, but she made no sound. Then, slowly, she dragged herself back up and knelt once more at the woman's feet. Waiting for more.

Eat their young, indeed. Bendis could not watch any more. She turned and ran back around the house, back to find the other girls.

月

Iku's face and belly were a blaze of pain. Her head swam from the force of the last blow; she felt giddy, and it was hard to stay upright. She knelt before Mother, waiting for whatever came next. It had been a long time since Mother had been this angry.

"—Insufferable, disobedient, malicious little cow!" Mother raged. "How dare you? Not just staying out late, but consorting with those other smug little bitches when you were forbidden to! How _dare_ you? Do you _want_ to be punished? Do you?"

Iku did not answer; she had not been given permission to speak. Mother reached out and grabbed her braid, yanking down hard and jerking Iku's head back. She gasped at the sudden pain, and Mother pulled again, harder.

"Well, _do_ you?" Mother snarled.

"No, Mother," whispered Iku. She could barely see; her eyes were filled with tears of pain from her pulled hair.

The grasp on her hair vanished. In its place, a hand planted itself on her forehead and pushed back with frightening strength. Iku could not keep her balance; she fell backward, wrenching her still-tender ankle once more. The back of her head hit the concrete wall with a crack.

That was too much. She pitched forward and threw up on the floor. Her stomach was nearly empty; only a thin, foamy liquid came out, but the cramps in her belly seemed to last forever.

Finally it ended and she braced herself on hands and knees, shaking and gasping for air. A foot came down on her back, forcing her down face-first in the mess.

"You are the most appalling, repulsive piece of trash imaginable," said Mother's voice with eerie calm. "You are a waste of time, a waste of effort, and a waste of space. It is truly a mystery to me why you don't just throw yourself under a bus. The world would be better off without you."

"No," gasped Iku. "No."

"Yes. You are a trial sent upon me. You are a blight. Well, I have had enough, my girl. If you will not see the error of your ways, then it falls to me to show them to you; and if I have to thrash you until you are half-dead then that is what I am going to—"

From upstairs, there came a crash.

Mother looked around, startled. A moment later, they both heard a cry of pain or surprise, suddenly cut off. Masahiko's voice. Mother gave a snarl of fury. She took two steps toward the stairs. Then she paused and returned, staring down at Iku.

"Stay here," she grated. "Don't move. Understand, my girl?"

Feebly, Iku nodded. She had made it up to hands and knees again, but now she froze. Her stomach roiled, and the taste in her mouth was vile. Her head hurt. Everything hurt.

Mother turned and started toward the stairs once more. She never made it. She stopped with a gasp as, with a clatter of heels, three figures descended from the floor above. In the dim yellow light from the single bulb on the ceiling, the white of their uniforms almost seemed to glow.

Iku knew them well, of course. Mercury, Venus, Uranus. But that they should come here, and see her like this—internally, she could feel herself shrivel with horror and shame. She wanted to cry, to cover herself, but still she did not dare. What were they doing _here_, where nobody else should ever come?

(And at the back of her mind, very distantly, an inner voice said: _Dhiti-san?_ And then: _You came for me. You came after all._ And something inside her changed forever.)

"Who—what—" Mother stammered. "What do you think you're doing here, you dirty girls? Who are you? Get out! Get out of my house!"

The Senshi did not respond; they simply came on. Spluttering in rage and, at last, a hint of partially-concealed fear, Mother strode forward. "Get out!" she shouted again. "I don't know who you are but I'm calling the police right now—"

"Be quiet," said Sailor Uranus. Her voice was glacial. Then, paying Mother no further attention, she walked straight past the woman. She knelt at Iku's side, staying out of the pool of vomit but otherwise hardly seeming to notice it. "Don't try to get up yet," she said in a low voice. "Wait until you feel steady again."

Iku dared to raise her head a little. "I…I know," she said.

Uranus cocked her head to one side, eyebrows raised. "Yes," she said after a moment. "Yes, I suppose you do."

"Please," said Iku, "you can't come here. She'll get angry—she'll be so angry…" She hardly dared to think about how angry Mother might get. There were no words for how bad it would be.

Uranus did not stir. "I wouldn't worry about that," she said. "I think Sailor Mercury has it pretty well in hand."

"What—?"

Iku looked up once more and saw in horror that Sailor Mercury was holding Mother by the arms and shaking her. Mother was yelling at her and trying to break free, but to no avail. Mercury showed no reaction; her face seemed almost expressionless, but Iku knew her well enough by now to see the simmering anger beneath the surface.

"No," Iku moaned. "No, this is wrong…" She tried to get up again, and made it to her knees. Her head was spinning. Her belly, her ankle, her whole body ached. She felt as if she were about to throw up again.

"Easy," said Uranus, but she moved back a little to give Iku room. She had an odd, almost analytical look: as if she were waiting curiously to see what Iku would do next.

A stifled gasp made Iku pause. She craned her head around and saw Masahiko halfway down the stairs. For a moment her vision swam and she saw two of him. Then there was only one, racing down the stairs and flinging himself toward Mother.

Sailor Venus caught him neatly, snatching him aside and holding him fast. He struggled to escape, squirming and twisting, but Venus' arm around his chest never budged.

"Mama!" he yelled. "Mama, help me!" Venus cupped her other hand over his mouth. His eyes flickered around the room, came to rest on Iku, moved on to Mother, and returned to his sister. He subsided then, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"You monsters!" Mother snarled, still held firmly in Mercury's grasp. "You vicious monsters. Who do you think you are? How dare you? You think you can break into my house—come in here and molest my darling baby boy, and attack an innocent woman in her own home? How _dare_ you? Look at you there, prancing around in your fancy costumes, all lily-white—but I can see your souls and they are blacker than the pit! I tell you, I'll make sure the whole world heard about this! And I promise you, I will never rest until you pay for your sins, my girls, until they hunt you down and string you up and make you _pay and pay and pay—_"

"That's enough," said Mercury in her ear, and Mother froze. "That's more then enough. If you say one word more, I swear I'm going to break your nose, just to shut you up."

Mother gaped at her for a moment. Then her face contorted and she said, "You vicious, contemptible, lying guttersnipe bitch…"

Sailor Mercury's eyes flashed, and her mouth set in a queer smile. "Thank you," she said. She released one hand from Mother's arm, raised her clenched fist, and—

"No," said Iku. Her voice was a hoarse rasp, but it carried throughout the cellar. "No, please. Sailor Mercury, please don't."

Mercury looked down at her, incredulous. "You're _protecting_ her? After everything she's done to you…why?"

"Because—" Iku fumbled to a stop: unable, in the face of a lifetime of woes, to say or even really understand what she meant. At last, in a very low voice, she said, "Because she's my mommy…"

Mercury stared at her for a moment longer. Then something in her face seemed to crumple. "All right," she said. She looked at Mother one more time, and her mouth twisted in contempt. "Get out of the way, you," she said, and gave the woman a sharp push. Mother lurched and tottered across the cellar, wailing, thumped heavily into the far wall, and slid to the floor, her skirt up around her hips.

Ignoring her, Mercury walked over to Iku's side, knelt down, and picked her up with no visible effort. Mercury's shoulder was hurt, Iku noticed through a daze, but it did not seem to hinder her. "At least," she said, "we're getting you out of this hell-hole. Understand?"

"I—" began Iku. Then she stopped. Something was happening inside her; somewhere, far below, something was being born. A thing that she barely recognised, but unmistakable all the same. For the first time in so long: hope.

"Yes, Sailor Mercury," she said obediently. She laid her head back on Mercury's arm, and let the girl carry her upstairs. It felt good.

月

They left Iku's mother and brother in the cellar. Uranus stood guard while the others paused briefly in Iku's room to gather some clothes and other belongings. There was disturbingly little to gather.

Mercury did most of the packing. She worked with a brisk efficiency, almost as if she had done it before. Venus, for her part, tried rather ineffectually to help Iku clean up and get dressed. It was difficult, because every time she looked at the girl she such felt a mixture of different emotions. Concern, certainly; but at the back of it was a shrinking, crawling sensation, making her reluctant to touch or go near or even look at Iku. The instinctive shying away from someone who had been damaged.

Beyond even that, though, was the shame. How could she have known Iku for so long and not have realised? Never even have suspected? Was she so blind?

And even: if she could have been blind to this, what else had she never noticed? What else was she simply looking past, every day, without it ever registering? It was a disturbing thought.

"That's enough," said Mercury. She picked up the large, battered pack that held Iku's gear, hefting it experimentally, and slung it across her back. "Let's go, everyone. Iku-chan, can you walk?"

"I…I think so," said Iku. "Um…"

"Yes?"

"Where…I mean…where…"

"Where is she going?" put in Uranus quietly from behind her. "To the police, I suppose, or 'E' Division." She frowned suddenly.

"The hell with that," said Mercury in a flat tone. "She's coming with me. We have a spare bedroom at home. She can have that."

"Uh," said Venus. "What will your parents say?"

"Let me worry about that." The grim, determined look on Mercury's face suggested that if her parents objected, she was not going to take 'no' for an answer.

Uranus shrugged, and a faint smile crossed her face. "All right, then. Let's go."

They went outside. The front door still hung open where Mercury had broken the lock earlier; she pulled it shut behind her. Iku was having trouble walking again and after a moment Mercury scooped the girl up in her arms once more. They began to run through the streets.

"What if her mother makes trouble?" asked Venus after a moment.

Mercury snorted. "As if. She says a word, and it'll all come out about what she's done to Iku-chan. She'd be thrown in prison faster than she can blink. If she's smart she'll keep her mouth shut."

"If she's smart," repeated Uranus thoughtfully.

Mercury tightened her lips. "Dammit, I don't like just leaving her either. There ought to be some kind of justice! But—"

"You think you could have given her justice?" asked Uranus.

"Huh? Damn right I could! A lot better than just leaving that woman there without a scratch—"

"No," whispered Iku.

"No," repeated Uranus, nodding. "You couldn't have given her justice, Dhiti-san. All you could have given her was revenge; and Iku-san didn't want that, remember?" She glanced over at Iku and added, in a low, measuring tone, "Nicely done, by the way."

Iku blinked at her. Mercury spluttered and said, "I—what? You think I—" She broke off. A minute later, grudgingly, she said, "Maybe you're right."

"Hm. Maybe." Uranus glanced around and said, "Do you guys mind if I head off now? There's something I want to take care of before I get home."

"Off to see your boyfriend?" inquired Mercury, and grinned at Uranus' expression. "Sure, whatever. We'll be okay."

Uranus nodded, then turned down a side street and sped off. Mercury watched her go and murmured, "Damned if I can figure her out sometimes."

"Yeah," said Venus, heartfelt.

Mercury glanced at her and said, "You want to take off too? Iku-chan and I will be fine; it's only another block or two home."

"Um. Okay, thanks. Uh, see you, Iku-chan…"

Venus paused, watching the two speed off. Bendis, who had been riding her shoulder, said, "What's the matter?"

"Oh…nothing. I mean, it's all okay now, right? She'll be fine. We fixed the problem and everything's all right. Right?"

Bendis did not answer at once. At last she repeated, "So what's the matter?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I suppose. It's just…" Venus groped for the words. "It's all too complicated. I don't know what to think any more. Iku-chan. And…and Suzue-san too, I guess. I thought she was going to be horrible when we found out about Iku-chan, but instead she was…she was…"

"Complicated?" suggested Bendis. "You know, you don't usually talk this way when you're Sailor Venus."

"Uh—" Venus _definitely_ did not want to talk about that. "I guess so. I…oh, I don't know! I'm tired and I'm sore and my head is pounding and I just…don't want to think about anything complicated for a while."

"Go home and get some rest," said Bendis. "Or watch the viddy."

"Rest. Yeah." Venus took the advice gratefully. She jogged home, climbed in through her bedroom window, and de-transformed. Instantly the weariness rose to cover her like a blanket. She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. As her head sunk into her pillow she heard Bendis pad to the door and go out. Off to watch the viddy, probably. Beth smiled to herself and tried to relax.

After a few minutes, though, she opened her eyes once more. She was still tired, but the thoughts whirling through her mind would not let her sleep. Iku. Suzue. And Sailor Venus, who had gone missing and left Beth in charge. What was she to make of it all?

She sat up, gave a sour look to the pile of books on her bedside table, and gave serious thought to going out and joining Bendis. Then another idea occurred to her. She fumbled through a pile of paper on her desk and found the one she was looking for. A comm number that she'd been given, nearly a week ago. She hesitated one moment more, then punched the code into her commset.

A voice answered, moments later. Beth said, "Hello, Mark-san? It's Beth; we met while we were out running. Listen, are you doing anything this evening…?"

月

Sailor Uranus did not go to see her boyfriend. Instead she took a loop back through the streets. Two or three minutes later, she stood outside Iku's house once more.

She stood at the gate for some time, pondering what she was about to do. Then she went up to the front door and pushed it open.

In the hallway, she heard the voices coming from the living room: Iku's mother, delivering a ceaseless harangue against her daughter and her new friends, and Iku's little brother, answering occasionally in monosyllables.

Again she paused. The boy couldn't have been more than fourteen. Then she thought again of the looks he had been giving Iku, down in the cellar: hungry, gloating. What must it do to a boy, growing up in a family like this? He would learn to be dominated…or to dominate.

She stepped into the living room, and the voices fell silent in an instant. Iku's mother sat in an ample armchair, the younger boy clasped to her breast. He lay there complacently, but the look on his face was one of boredom. His mother's face was curled into an aspect of baffled rage, but it turned to naked fury as she saw Uranus.

"You!" she shouted. "What do you want now? Come to brutalise an innocent woman further? Or to steal another child?"

"I was thinking," said Uranus, "about the nature of justice."

That shut the woman up for a moment, at least. But she resumed an instant later with a torrent of invective. "Get out of my house, you dirty, skanky little tart. Isn't it bad enough that you've stolen my daughter for your sick little games? I've called the police already and they'll be here in another two minutes, so you'll get what's coming to you at least—"

"I was thinking about justice," Uranus repeated. She did not raise her voice, but Iku's mother fell silent instantly. "I was wondering if I'm capable of it."

"Wh-what are you talking about, you—"

"Is there even such a thing as justice? Or is revenge all there can ever be?" Uranus came further into the room and knelt down, directly in front of Iku's mother's armchair. "I mean, if you want to punish a person who's hurt someone else, isn't that just because you yourself feel hurt by the crime? Even if it's just a feeling of outrage against what's happened to the victim?"

"You…" Mother stared at her. "You're crazy."

"Sometimes I think," Uranus said, "that only someone who truly loves the guilty person and the victim both can give them real justice. Because they're the only one who can weigh the balance properly." Her eyes flicked around the room and she shook her head. "Well, it doesn't matter. I might not be capable of justice. But I can strike a kind of balance." As she stood up, her gaze returned to the two in the armchair and she said, "You need to get out of this house, right now."

Paying them no further attention, she went into the little kitchen attached to the living room. A quick adjustment turned on all the burners on the gas stove. Then she stepped back and said under her breath, "Music of the Spheres."

The explosion rocked the kitchen. Uranus watched for a few seconds until she was satisfied that the walls and ceiling were catching alight as well. Then she returned to the living room.

Iku's mother and brother were staring at her, horror on their faces. Uranus nodded at them, gave them a tiny half-smile, and said, "Be glad that it was me who came…and not Sailor Jupiter."

They broke and turned to run. Uranus followed them out the front door at a leisurely pace. She could feel the heat on her back, growing rapidly. It was the middle of summer, of course; the house must have been tinder-dry.

The woman tried to hit her as she came out, and Uranus side-stepped easily. She looked at the two, standing forlorn in their front yard, and said, "By the way. If I hear that either of you talked about this…I'll find you again. That's all."

Doors and windows were starting to open in neighbouring properties. It was pretty dark, though, and Uranus was confident that she would not be recognised. She jumped up, touching down on the next-door house, and began to leap away over the rooftops. Off in the distance, she heard the first siren begin to wail.

A kind of balance, yes. She might not be able to give Iku justice, but she could see to it that her place of suffering no longer troubled the world. And didn't it make sense that if Iku had to lose her home, then so did the ones who abused her? Although…she could not escape the feeling that Queen Serenity might not have agreed.

But would Ten'ou Haruka? The thought made Uranus smile, just for an instant, as she ran.

月

Jogging lightly toward home, Sailor Mercury chuckled to herself again as she remembered Uranus' expression. The girl was pretty touchy about her boyfriend; she was a lot of fun to tease on the subject. All the same…Mercury's smile faded. It did rather raise the question of Dhiti's own love life—or lack of it. None of the boys could keep up with her, and it was not for lack of her trying. Truth to tell, none of them had ever really appealed to her at all. She'd have given up, except that being left alone while all the others started to pair off sucked even worse. Sometimes it seemed that she really was as slippery as ice.

She glanced down at the girl in her arms and grimaced. Boyfriends could wait; her house was just ahead. She paused in a nice dark spot, let Iku down, and de-transformed. Her shoulder hurt a lot worse out of Senshi form, but she could stand it. At least it had stopped bleeding, and the dark red stain that had been down her arm did not transfer over to her school uniform jacket.

The pain in her shoulder faded in importance as the two of them walked the last twenty metres to her house. Iku was limping a little. The situation seemed familiar, and after a moment she realised that it felt almost exactly the same as when she'd escorted Iku home after the raid last week. That thought made her realise what had probably happened to Iku short afterward, and the idea made Dhiti's anger start to burn again.

As they reached the house, she threw the front door open and led Iku in. She led the girl down the corridor into the living room and paused at the door. Her father was sitting in his usual place, and her mother was in the chair beside him, reading. They looked up at her in surprise.

Dhiti took a deep breath, and pulled Iku forward into the room. "This is my friend, Kodama Iku," she said. "She's going to be staying with us."

Sharma Praket's eyebrows lifted a fraction, which was a strong reaction for him. He took a moment to respond, but when he did so his voice was calm and mild. "Indeed?" he said. "Then welcome to our home, Kodama Iku. I trust you will find your stay pleasant."

Beside him, Dhiti's mother dropped her startled look and managed to smile. "Hello, Iku-san," she said. "Welcome. How long will you be staying?"

Iku started to stutter, and Dhiti gave her a firm nudge to shut her up. "Forever," she said to her parents in a flat tone. Then, before either of them could reply, she pointed to the stairs and said to Iku, "Go on up. The guest room is the second on the left. Or, wait, I'll show you."

She started up the stairs, pulling Iku behind her. Iku balked for a moment, gave Praket and Salila a deep, frightened bow, and then fled up the stairs after Dhiti.

Artemis was not about, thankfully; no doubt he was off chatting with Seki and Makoto. Well, hooray for them. In the meantime, glad that she did not have to deal with him, Dhiti showed Iku into the guest room. It was half-filled with a clutter of old family belongings, but the bed and one dresser were clear. She dropped Iku's bag on the bed and said, "You go ahead and get unpacked. I'll talk to them."

"You—they—they won't like it," whispered Iku. "They'll be angry."

Dhiti gave her a twisted half-smile. "Well, yeah, maybe. But they'll be angry at me, Iku-chan, not you. Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"Don't worry, I said. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Dhiti went back downstairs and found her parents waiting. Her father said only, "Explain, please."

She told them an abbreviated version of the truth. Iku was a friend from school, and Dhiti had just found out what the girl's family were doing to her. She told them, without hiding any details, what she had seen when she went into the cellar.

"You confronted the girl's family yourself?" asked Praket.

"I had a couple of other friends with me. We managed to keep them busy while Iku-chan got away."

"I see." Praket's gaze grew distant. "Your instincts are praiseworthy, daughter. But I cannot help thinking that the police, and the 'O' Division child welfare office, might handle the situation better."

"Nonsense," said Salila, making him break off and give her a look of mild surprise. "That would just drive the girl through the legal system, put her through a great deal of public scrutiny, and make things even worse for her. Think about it, dear."

Praket considered this. "Perhaps," he said. "But is this the best place for her? What do you intend, daughter? Is she to be some kind of foster sister to you?"

"I don't know," said Dhiti honestly. "But I think…maybe…she can learn to be happy here."

Her father studied her with a long, uncomfortable gaze. Then he gave her a short nod. "Very well. See to your guest, then, daughter."

His sudden acquiescence caught Dhiti by surprise. She said, "Um…yeah. Okay, thanks. Uh…how long until dinner? I'll let her take a bath." She fled up the stairs almost before her mother had answered.

Behind her, Salila exchanged glances with her husband. "You'll look into it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course." He turned thoughtful eyes back to the stairs and added, "There is a silver lining. She is learning to care about others." With no little satisfaction, he added, "At last."

月

Upstairs, Dhiti found Iku sitting ramrod-straight on the guest bed, her face caught somewhere between nervousness and terror. Dhiti stood in the doorway and said, "It's okay. You can stay."

Iku stared at her like a deer caught in headlights. "What—"

"It's okay," repeated Dhiti. "They said so. You can stay. Forever."

"Stay?" said Iku, wonderingly. "Truly? I can—?" Then, without warning, she burst into tears.

Dhiti froze, uncertain. What was she supposed to do? Leave Iku to collect herself? Say something comforting? She had no idea. Hesitantly, she stepped over to the bed and sat down beside Iku, laying a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hey," she said.

She got no further than that because Iku whirled and threw her arms around Dhiti, burying her face in her shoulder as she continued to sob. Dhiti found herself rubbing the girl's back, rather bemused. So what was she supposed to do _now_? Comfort her? But how?

As she groped for answers, one long-ago comfort came back to her: the old lullaby, the one her mother had sung to Dhiti when she was a little girl. It seemed trite…but it was all she had to offer. Feeling both awkward and ridiculous, Dhiti started to sing.

__

By and by, my darling,  
Sun will come again.  
There'll be golden mornings  
After days of rain.  
Certain as the dewdrops  
On my window pane,  
By and by, my darling,  
Sun will come again.

Miraculously, it seemed to work. Iku seemed to quieten in her arms, and Dhiti kept on singing as the sobs died away to a faint snuffling. For the first time it occurred to her that she was holding another girl close. Somehow, it was not as awkward a feeling as she would have expected.

__

Wipe away the teardrops,  
Kiss away the pain;  
By and by, my darling,  
Sun will come again.

Distantly, her father's words came back to her: _What do you intend, daughter?_ Slowly, tentatively, she lifted a hand to stroke Iku's hair.

And then she knew.

**SAILOR MOON 4200  
End Of Chapter Fourteen**

**Next:** New enemies appear, along with new allies, as the Senshi work to consolidate their roles.


End file.
